The Strain
by daflippnay
Summary: An odd strain of virus appears in Sacramento, California... Zombie!fic. JDCox, Turla, Kelliot.
1. Foreshadowing

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

* * *

Chapter One: Foreshadowing

"Belle, unless that book holds the cure for cancer and the common cold, I suggest that you--"

JD attempted to close the book, but Doctor Cox was quick to intercept, swiping his hand between the perused pages as he took it from him. "Um, my shift just ended--"

The older doctor squinted at the pages' contents before turning the book around to glance at the cover, smirking at his protégé. "Survival Guide? Newbie, it's a shame that genetics didn't equip you with the standard know-how of a man, like, for instance, how to change a tire and wrestle a crocodile, but have we not established this enough? You're just not programmed to do any of this, seeing as you are, in fact, a little girl."

"Me and Turk had a Lethal Weapon marathon last night!" he said excitedly. "I figure anything Riggs can do counts as a survival skill. But combine that with anything MacGyver can do and I'd be superhuman!"

Doctor Cox snorted as he thrust the book back at the younger man. "Get out of here unless you've found a revolutionary breakthrough on how to rewire the human anatomy like a car engine."

JD tilted his head in thought, but was immediately brought back down to earth by the sound of Doctor Cox's pager going off. He watched as his mentor studied the screen intently, his ears perking for any sounds of a heart monitor flat-lining. He frowned when none came. "Is there something wrong, Doctor Cox?"

"It seems that my harpy of an ex-wife is stuck in traffic and won't be able to pick up our hybrid devil spawn from preschool," the older man said, glancing at his wristwatch.

"I can get him!" JD said cheerfully.

"Do ya remember the last time you 'got him,' Newbie?" Doctor Cox asked with a glare. At the younger man's thoughtful frown, he said, "You didn't. And for some reason unbeknownst to me, he head-banged and spouted off random words that sounded oddly like the German language for the entire weekend. While I found this to be somewhat amusing, Jordan and the Hasidic Jews at the supermarket did not."

"So," he said with a grin, "what time do I pick him up?"

Doctor Cox growled, flipping open his wallet and slapping a couple of dollar bills in the younger man's hand. "Get on a bus now. There's no way in hell I'm letting you put my son on the back of that scooter." He handed off the keys to his apartment. "Stay there until Jordan arrives. Touch anything and die."

JD beamed, practically floating to the locker room.

When JD arrived at the school, he found the yard to be completely barren. He frowned, noticing two police cars double parked by the front entrance, effectively blocking it.

"Excuse me, but what's going on?" JD asked one of the officers.

"Is your kid in there?" the middle aged officer asked, pointing towards the school doors with the butt of his pen. "The CDC is quarantining the place. There's an epidemic going around, and one of the doctors said it looks to be a strain of Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease. I'm afraid they're going to be in there for a while."

JD blinked, glancing at the school doors before directing his gaze back on the officer. "Is there anything I can do? I'm a doctor."

"Some people from the CDC are coming in. Stick around, they might need some help. Although, if it's not within your scope of practice, I'd say don't bother."

JD nodded, walking away from the gates. He took out his cell phone and dialed the hospital, sighing as it began to ring. He recognized Carla's voice as soon as she answered the phone. "Carla? It's JD, is Doctor Cox there?"

"_Yeah, Bambi. Hold on, okay?"_

"Thanks," JD murmured, running a hand through his hair.

"_This better be good, Clarabelle," _his mentor growled into the phone a moment later.

"Sorry to bother you, Doctor Cox, but your son's school has just been quarantined."

"_What?!"_

"Yeah, the police are here and they said they think it's a strain of Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease. I'm going to be here for a while."

There was a short pause on the other line. _"JD, I'm only four hours into my shift. I can't leave. I need you to stay there if anything happens. I'll call you on my next break."_

"Yeah, it's no problem, Doctor Cox," he said gently, cringing when his mentor slammed down the phone.

In a matter of minutes, the premises was flooded with concerned parents and bustling news vans, but still no word from the CDC. JD stood amongst the commotion, thankful that he'd taken off his scrubs and hospital ID before heading over to the school. As much as he wanted to help, he knew that drawing too much attention to himself would probably be more detrimental than not. It was only when the police officers started pushing the crowd further away from the barrier tapes did several white, unmarked Ford E-Series vans come into view. They parked haphazardly in front of the gates, several masked and gowned men and women flooding out of the vehicles. They ducked under the police tape and made their way towards the building.

The pandemonium picked up then, nerve-wracked parents and inquisitive news reporters rushing over to the specialists.

"People, I'm going to need you to clear the area," a gray haired man called out as he exited out of the driver's side. "We're dealing with an epidemic here. I ask that you place at least one thousand feet between you and this institution. If you've been in that building at any time today, please come forward for a standard check up. Please understand the circumstances we are in if we need you quarantined."

"Excuse me," one news reporter called out, waving at him to get his attention, "how do you think this strain of Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease reached this facility?"

"We are not sure if it is Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease," the man replied with a grunt. "A teacher took a picture of a rash that's developed on several of the children and also one of the faculty members and sent it to the school nurse, who then emailed it to the CDC. She claims that there are a few children that have presented with oral lesions, but there are several diseases that match up to these symptoms. We have no further information at this time."

"_Erenreich, this is Coleman," _a staticky voice spoke up from his two-way. _"This does not look like Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease at all…"_ The voice sounded in awe.

The gray haired man frowned. "Describe the symptoms, Coleman," he said into the microphone.

"_I don't know, man, but these aren't normal lesions. The one teacher's symptoms seem to be progressing faster than any of the kids'. This looks more like necrosis to me, Bob…"_

"Coleman, lesions and necrosis are two very distinct things," Bob said, his voice taut. "Describe the rest of the symptoms."

"_The symptoms on the children are as follows: red, raw, and pustulous lesions in the mouth, swelling of the hands and feet, and there also appear to be rashes on the extremities, but presentation of the rashes vary from child to child. Many of them are spiking up with high grade fevers. The teacher, however, shows signs of necrosis in the mouth, her extremities… Upon palpating her abdomen, her skin is hot to the touch and there are signs of internal bleeding."_

"Definitely not Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease," JD remarked under his breath, tugging at strands of his hair.

"Coleman, have the kids visited any parks or zoos lately?" Bob asked into the two-way.

There was a pause before Coleman replied, _"Yes, sir… One of the assistants said they went to a petting zoo two days ago."_

"I want that petting zoo quarantined immediately," Bob barked. "Round up teams four and five. I want blood samples."

"_Copy that, Doc," _Coleman said.

JD startled when his phone began to ring, quickly answering it. "Hello?"

"_Give me a rundown of what's happening, Newbie."_

"Doctor Cox," JD said with a heavy sigh. "It sounds nothing like Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease. At least, at the onset, it did."

"_Is… Is Jack anywhere near you?" _the older doctor asked, his voice sounding strained.

"No," JD said, worrying his lower lip, "the entire building's been quarantined. Everybody here has been pushed back a thousand feet from the premises." He glanced around before cupping his hand to the speaker. "Doctor Cox, the symptoms are ranging from pustulous lesions to necrosis. I have no idea what's going on."

"_ERENREICH, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY,"_ a female rasped on the two-way, _"Teacher presenting with necrosis is convulsing and showing signs of delirium. It's taking four people to restrain her…"_

"_Newbie!" _Doctor Cox snarled on the other line.

"S-Sorry," JD said softly. "I think one of the teachers is suffering from a high grade fever. She's reported to be delirious, and it's taking a few people to restrain her. There's no news on any of the kids right now." He swallowed hard, turning his head when he saw the school doors burst open. His eyes widened when a woman darted out the doors, followed by a cluster of masked and gowned men and women.

"_Erenreich, the woman's escaped--"_

"I _see _that!" Bob growled into the two-way. He reached for something in the van, producing a megaphone. "Everyone evacuate the area now!"

Several officers ushered everyone from the scene. JD watched in horror as the sickly woman ran closer, a guttural, wet scream tearing from her throat. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was sallow, the saliva dribbling from her mouth stringy and thick. One of the gowned specialists leapt at her from behind, grabbing her by the forearms as they both tumbled to the ground.

"Doctor Cox, I gotta call you back," JD rasped, hanging up the phone.

The crowd watched, wide-eyed and quiet as four more gowned men approached the writhing woman and her captor. And then suddenly an agonizing scream tore from one of the men holding her down.

"_SHE BIT ME! THE BITCH BIT ME!"_

* * *

A/N: I know the zombie thing has been horribly overdone in some cases, but the plot bunnies bit me and I just had to. Reviews are nice!_  
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	2. And The Puzzle Pieces Fall

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

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Chapter Two: And The Puzzle Pieces Fall

A Latina woman wearing a black business jacket and matching pencil skirt stood just outside the school gates, donning a surgical mask. Beside her was Bob Erenreich, who wore a similar mask as well as a pale yellow disposable surgical gown. "This is Ayana James from FOX40 News, reporting to you live from Sacramento, California. Sutterville Preschool was placed under quarantine today and has been on lockdown since 1:30 this afternoon. Speaking to me now is CDC specialist and Intensivist Doctor Robert Erenreich. Doctor Erenreich, can you tell me what's going on in there?"

"Good afternoon," Bob greeted dismally, running a hand through his thinning gray hair. "Sutterville Preschool is under quarantine due to a communicable rash that has been spread among the children and also one of the faculty members. The school nurse sent us pictures via email and a couple of specialists agreed that the rashes as well as the other symptoms the children and faculty member presented with were very similar to that of a disease called Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease. Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease is also known as the Coxsackie virus and is prevalent mostly in children ages ten and under." He turned his head from the microphone to clear his throat, the grimace on his face showing his discomfort. "Unfortunately, it is not Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease that we're dealing with. As of now, we do not have anymore information. On-site biopsies have been done on several of the children. The test results will take a few hours."

"How communicable is this disease, Doctor? Do you have any ideas as to where it could have come from?" the news reporter asked.

He swallowed, hard. "It seems that it is very communicable. The children were at a local petting zoo two days before, so that may very well be the source. Specialists have isolated and quarantined the petting zoo, and are taking blood samples from the employees and even the animals, just to be safe. We're also investigating the school grounds. Unfortunately, both these institutions will be under quarantine until we can identify the virus. We understand how worried these kids' parents are right now, but we are trying our best."

"What symptoms should our viewers be looking out for, Doctor?"

"It is hard to name them all right now, but the known symptoms are as follows: bloodshot eyes, raw lesions in the mouth, rashes along the extremities, and all of this is accompanied by high fever."

Ayana nodded. "Thank you for your time, Doctor Erenreich."

Bob nodded gravely.

* * *

JD flipped open his cell phone as soon as he heard it ring. "Hello?"

"_Bambi, are you busy?" _Carla asked on the other line.

"I'm still near the preschool, but they're having everyone clear the area," he replied, glancing at his watch.

"_I know you just got off a shift, but do you think you could come back here? It's getting crazy."_

JD sighed, adjusting his surgical mask. "Okay. I'll be there soon."

It took JD longer to get to Sacred Heart than he thought he would. All bus schedules had screeched to a halt sometime after the news report, and all the bus stops he'd passed were crowded with people. He decided to walk the fifteen or so blocks to the hospital, which took him a little less than twenty minutes. The lobby was crowded with people when he got there, and the drone of bits of conversation and coughing and hysterical crying was nearly overwhelming.

He felt someone tug him by the arm, and he spotted Carla in his peripheral vision, her nails biting into the sleeve of his shirt as she dragged him down the hall. JD followed silently as she led him to an empty examination room, thrusting a chart into his hand.

"You're gonna check for the symptoms listed there," Carla said, tapping a finger against the chart. "You know how it goes. Circle the symptoms they present with, sign the paper, give it to 'em and then push them out the door. I'll be directing traffic from there."

JD nodded, shedding off his backpack and pulling on a pair of gloves.

For almost six hours, JD had systematically repeated the same steps, so much so that it very nearly became muscle memory and he started imagining that he was working at a burger joint instead of a hospital. Take the patient's temperature, check their lymph nodes, palpate their abdomen and their extremities for tenderness and rashes, toss away the disposable thermometer, shine a light in their eyes and mouth, document his findings - or for the most part, the lack thereof - and then send them away to Carla.

"_For here or to stay?" _JD imagined himself asking, donning a paper nurse hat that made for a makeshift fast food restaurant uniform. "Who knew McDonaldization would hit medical facilities so fast?"

"Puh-lease don't tell me you turned Sacred Heart into a burger joint in that overactive imagination of yours," Doctor Cox remarked as he breezed into the room.

The dark haired man nodded enthusiastically, but his smile was for once halfhearted. His smile fell. "Did you hear anything more from Jack's preschool?"

Doctor Cox tugged on a pair of gloves before plucking one of the disposable thermometers from a cardboard box, sticking it in JD's mouth. "Yeah," he muttered, and the younger man noticed the faraway look in his mentor's glassy eyes. "They're holding him and the rest of the tiny tots until further notice. He hasn't presented with any of the symptoms."

_Yet,_ the unsaid word echoed throughout the room.

Doctor Cox palpated the lymph nodes on JD's neck before checking his temperature and shining his penlight in the younger man's eyes and mouth. JD laid down on the examination table as the older man took off his gloves and gently pressed his fingertips against the skin on his abdomen.

"Any pain, tenderness?" Doctor Cox asked, and by the monotonous voice he'd said it in, JD knew that he'd probably repeated the phrase more than a hundred times today.

"No," he replied, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The older man gently patted his side after looking over his arms and legs, heading out the door. "Let's grab something to eat, Newbie."

JD nodded, pulling his shirt down and running his hands through his hair as he followed after him.

"What are we even supposed to do?" Elliot's high pitched voice wafted - or perhaps, drilled - into their eardrums as they approached their usual table. "The CDC doesn't even have a vaccine for this thing yet, let alone a name for it! Is it airborne? Cutaneous? Should I be bathing myself in Lysol? Oh my God, do they sterilize these forks?" Her eyes grew wide as she dropped the fork into her Caesar salad.

Doctor Cox rolled his eyes as he dropped down into a vacant seat. "Of_ course _they sterilize the forks! In fact, they put 'em right next to the kidney basins and the laryngoscopes!"

Carla wiped her face with her hands. "I kinda know how a crossing guard feels like now," she grumbled into her palms.

"It's okay," JD murmured, "I think I know how it feels to work in a fast food restaurant now. It was very reality TV show-like, except it'd be called Trading Places instead of Trading Spaces, and it'd be very dangerous because they'd have McDonald's employees trying to intubate some guy with bee stings and a closed airway."

Turk shuddered. "Dude, that just gave me the sickest image _ever_."

"And this is coming from a surgeon who sees the sickest images ever on a day to day basis," Doctor Cox snorted.

"But I'm eating!" the surgeon complained.

"Trust me, that is not the worst image ever," Elliot said, wrinkling her nose. "They made me audit an autopsy in med school, and the pathologists were talking about how they should order some Italian food after, and the dead guy looked like he'd gone through a_ shredder_--!"

"Elliot, _stop!" _Carla and Turk snapped.

"Oh!" JD gasped in realization, sitting up. "Did Jordan make it home okay, Doctor Cox?"

"No," the older man grumbled, poking at his cold lasagna. "They for reasons unknown had everyone take a detour. She decided to turn around and stay with her mother until they clear up the roads again."

"Clear up?" Carla asked, her brows furrowing. "Was there an accident?"

Doctor Cox shook his head. "Jordan's words, not mine. I honestly have no idea."

"I might," a voice said above them, and nearly everyone jumped as a dark-skinned hand placed a police scanner down on the table with a loud clatter.

The table's occupants glanced up to see Leonard, one of Sacred Heart's security guards. At his pursed lips and the crinkle between his brows, everyone glanced back down at the scanner.

"…_we have a code 11-12 on Interstate 5. I repeat, code 11-12..."_

"What's a code 11-12?" Turk asked, frowning at the security guard.

Leonard frowned in thought before nodding, glancing back at them. "Code 11-12 is for loose livestock."

"…_need back up, I repeat, need backup on Interstate 5 at junction SR99. Livestock are _loose and vicious."

JD blinked before glancing over at his mentor, his mouth dropping open before he quickly closed it, shaking his head. "Doctor Cox, this is kind of a weird question, but what kind of animals did they have at Jack's field trip on Tuesday?" He eyed the other man as his face dropped.

"Livestock."

* * *

TBC...


	3. Movement Doesn't Necessarily Mean Progre

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

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Chapter 3: Movement Doesn't Necessarily Mean Progress

"JD, are you awake?" Elliot whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder as she sat at the edge of the bed.

"No," JD grumbled, scrunching his nose as a stream of light shone into his eyes from the half-opened door. He cracked an eye open and squinted at the blonde blob in front of him. "Something wrong?"

"The hospital is quarantined. The woman from Jack's preschool was brought in after she got loose… She's sedated and in a clean room now." She reached into her lab coat pocket and pressed something thin and papery into his hand.

He lifted it to his face to have a look, but he already suspected that it'd be a face mask. He sighed as he put it on. "Any news on a vaccination?" 

Elliot shook her head. "No… So far, every news channel has just been repeating what symptoms to look out for." She sighed. "You wanna sit in the cafeteria and pretend to drink coffee?"

"Don't tell me they've put a lockdown on the coffee pots," JD groaned.

She nodded solemnly. "Everybody's already going nuts as it is. Someone from the CDC talked to Doctor Kelso and they found that the particles of whatever this virus is is just a little bigger than the TB strain. They're going to have everybody checked up and given a HEPA respirator. The kitchen staff had to throw away all the exposed food for fear of contamination, so the CDC people are going to bring in some stuff in after they hose this place down with some sort of disinfecting solution. They've already gotten some blood cultures out of that woman and sent them to USAMRIID… Can you believe it?"

JD ran a hand through his hair as he followed Elliot out into the hall. Everyone they passed sported surgical masks and furrowed brows. When they stepped into the elevator, all of its occupants glanced warily at one another and seemed to on instinct shrink into themselves, flinching when someone would get too close.

Upon entering the cafeteria, JD spotted Carla and Doctor Cox sitting at one of the tables towards the back.

"…they're already thinking biological warfare," Doctor Cox was saying, his hands clasped behind his head.

"Of course that's the first thing they'd think," Elliot snorted, sagging into the plastic chair.

"Is it happening anywhere else aside from California?" JD asked quietly.

"No," the older doctor replied, his eyes trained on some spot on the wall behind JD. "As far as we know, it's only limited to Sacramento for now. The only existing contaminant outside of that preschool is Ms. Lambert in 1123. That's the clean room, just in case you were wondering."

"And how is she?" JD asked worriedly.

"In a medically induced coma, but I hear her health is diminishing quickly," Carla sighed, her voice sounding strained. "None of the hospital staff are allowed in there. She's being monitored by these two guys brought in from the CDC, and they go in there with biosafety suits and everything."

JD stared at the grainy pattern on the tabletop, trying to absorb it all in. He glanced at Carla, and then Doctor Cox. "Did you see?" he asked, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Doctor Cox blinked, slowly. "No."

Suddenly, all four of them were on their feet, the rubber stoppers on their chair legs scraping in ear-splitting harmony against the white tile floors as they bounded off towards the elevators. Their feet seemed to be committed to the fast pace they'd decided to pick up, but once room 1123 was within eyesight, each step closer to the window felt as though they were trudging through tar.

The blinds were drawn, but the door window was unobstructed. JD took a breath and stepped closer to it, his eyes widening at the tableau before him. Ms. Lambert laid in a hospital bed, the skin on her face and arms and hands bruised and pallid, and in some spots, there were blood-soaked bandages where lesions had obviously ruptured. By the looks of it, they were either very fresh or still bleeding.

JD stepped back to let Doctor Cox have a peek, staring unseeingly at his mentor's back. When the older doctor moved to stand beside JD, he murmured quietly, "What does that look like to you? Smallpox? Ebola? AIDS?"

"Golly, Sandy, not everyone is blessed with your x-ray vision," Doctor Cox grunted. "Besides, I figure we've ruled those out completely considering they can't even identify the damn thing."

"Oh my gosh, they wouldn't withdraw information from the public, would they?" Elliot squeaked, her eyes widening. "What if they have covert plans to blow Sacramento up?"

"Well, don't give them any ideas," Doctor Cox said with a roll of his eyes. "If this thing is being carted off to USAMRIID like the media says, then there's bound to be some big military cheeses playing as undercover civilians around here by now."

JD tilted his head in thought, flinching when Doctor Cox flicked his ear. "It could be any one of us!" he hissed.

Abruptly, all general movement in the hall came to a screeching halt as the PA speakers squeaked overhead.

"_Doctor Kelso speaking," _the Chief of Medicine announced. _"I'm going to need everyone to head down to the lobby. The CDC has arrived with HEPA respirators and a disinfecting agent. They will be tending to each of the floors and I need everyone to carefully follow their instructions. Refreshments are also being brought in, so I please ask that anyone capable of hauling a couple of boxes do so. We'll start with the top floors first. Interns and all other hospital staff on the fourth floor, please take the stairwell down to the lobby. All residents and attendings, please assist the nurses in wheeling all patients onto the elevators. For those who are recumbent, I ask that you unplug all equipment and let them run on battery. They will all be temporarily relocated and re-plugged in the ER. For those who are able to move, please assist them into wheelchairs and safely escort them to the lobby via elevator. There are several security guards stationed on each floor. They are prepared to help you in any way they can. Please proceed."_

"Oh, this'll be fun," Doctor Cox remarked, following after Carla as she headed further down the corridor.

JD and Elliot went in the opposite direction at the request of two other nurses.

* * *

**Glossary:**

HEPA respirator- HEPA stands for 'high efficiency particulate air,' and these respirators (which look like normal surgical masks) are designed to block specific kinds of airborne viruses, such as tuberculosis.

USAMRIID- The U.S. Army Medical Research Institute for Infectious Diseases in Maryland.

_TBC..._


	4. The Pawns Go First

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

A/N: Hope nobody minds if I sneak some JD/Cox in here at some point. :P

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Chapter Four: The Pawns Go First

"Ah, this takes me back to the Vietnam War," Doctor Kelso said as he spooned the goopy contents of his MRE packet into a paper plate. As an afterthought, he added, "I couldn't defecate for a week."

JD paused mid-bite, cringing around his plastic spoon. "Please remind me to pick up a fiber supplement when I get out of here," he muttered to Turk.

"Man, get one for me, too," Turk replied with a cringe of his own.

Carla breezed into the lobby, a prescription pad and pen in hand. "Bambi, why don't you stay with us for a while?"

He blinked. "What for?"

"I overheard one of the CDC specialists. They're lifting the quarantine off the hospital once they finish here. You shouldn't be alone if anything happens, you know," the Latina nurse told him. She thrust the prescription pad at him, offering a sheepish smile. "Also, it'd be nice if you could stock up on some stuff. I made a list."

"Yeah, sure," JD said absentmindedly, flipping through it. "What time do you guys get off?"

"Not for another six hours," Carla sighed, taking the prescription pad from him and tearing out the list. She handed it to him as she eyed the MRE packets on the table. "I'm hungry, but I'm not sure if I'm hungry enough for _that_." She glanced at JD and Turk. "How are they?"

"As inedible as they were in the 70s," Doctor Kelso piped up, smiling when the nurse made a face.

"Man, I'm on call," Turk muttered. "That Erenreich guy wants me to assist in exploratory surgery on that teacher in the clean room."

"Are you serious?" JD asked. "I heard she's bleeding out."

He nodded, taking a bite out of a soda cracker. "They're just waiting for her to stabilize. They've got her on corticosteroids and iron supplements."

"Are they even working?" his best friend asked incredulously.

Turk shrugged, shaking his head. "I really don't know." He glanced around before murmuring, "Dude, on the real? I don't think she's going to make it."

"Of course she's not," Doctor Kelso snorted. "She's the vehicle for a medical breakthrough. The CDC probably _wants _her to crash and bleed out."

Their little corner of the lobby was suddenly hushed at this new onslaught of information.

"Come on, now. It shouldn't be _that _shocking," the Chief of Medicine remarked. He got up to toss his trash. "There should be some Konsyl samples in the first floor supply closet, but for Chrissakes, drop your deuces in the privacy of your own restrooms. This is a hospital, not a fertilizing industry."

"Yucky," said JD, making a face.

The quarantine was lifted an hour or so later, and JD was cleared to leave after he helped check over the critical patients who had been relocated over to the ER. After getting a couple of blood works and a swift check up done by a CDC specialist, he was making his way out of the hospital doors, N95 respirator over his mouth and nose.

JD drove Sasha over to his apartment first to grab a couple of clothes and toiletries and clean scrubs, tucking them away into a worn duffel bag he found in the hallway closet. He bypassed Sasha and opted for the car Dan had bought him a couple weeks before, getting into the driver's side and tossing the duffel bag in the backseat.

By the time he'd reached one of Sacramento's twenty-four hour supermarkets, it was past two in the morning. It was fairly busy for this hour, but considering the circumstances, it wasn't odd.

JD stopped by the supermarket's pharmacy, the glare of a television screen on the counter catching his eye. He heard more than he saw the news report, but stiffened all the same.

_"…panicked parent broke into Sutterville Preschool just this evening, throwing a brick into one of the first floor classroom windows. He was brought shortly to South Sacramento Trauma Center in handcuffs. Authorities were apprehensive about keeping him in a holding cell at the local station, so they are keeping him at the trauma center under several watchful eyes until further notice. CDC specialist Alex Coleman says that no one was harmed during this incident, but there is a very major possibility that the virus has been given an opportunity to spread…"_

He released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, plucking a couple of over-the-counter medicines from the shelves and dropping them into the cart.

After paying for everything and loading it into the trunk, he drove to Turk and Carla's apartment complex and dragged all the groceries on a flat wheel dolly he found sitting outside of the vestibule. Once inside the apartment, he let Izzy's sitter go before putting all the groceries away and getting situated in the living room. They'd turned his old bedroom into a nursery for Izzy, so it looked like he was sleeping on the pull-out.

JD sighed, turning on the television and lowering the volume.

* * *

Turk had never seen so much blood.

He watched in awe, itching in the biosafety suit they required that he put on. The woman had crashed a half hour ago and had been pronounced dead after the sixth time they'd tried to defib her. They were now taking pints of blood samples, and biopsies of her ruptured spleen, duodenum, and pancreas, as they were among the organs most affected by this enigmatic virus aside from her skin.

Sometime later, Turk stood in the observation room just outside of the OR, being hosed down by one of the CDC staff. He peeled off the biosafety suit and got into a fresh pair of scrubs as well as a surgical mask. Outside in the hall, he lowered it down to his chin, making a beeline for the cafeteria.

Turk sat numbly, across from Cox and Kelso.

Doctor Cox raised his eyebrows expectantly. "So?"

"She's dead," Turk said, sinking bonelessly into his chair.

"Did the corticosteroids work?" he asked, draining the last of his coffee.

The surgeon shrugged, clasping his hands together. "It alleviated the fever and the inflammation a bit, but it had no affect on the bleeding…" He shook his head.

"Prednisone?"

He nodded.

"Looks like whatever the treatment they use'll be a cocktail, then," Doctor Cox mused.

"Any news?" Turk asked.

"Some idiot tried to break into the school and get his daughter back," Doctor Kelso replied blandly. "There's a chance that the incident gave the virus its opportunity to spread."

The surgeon gave a distracted nod, wiping a hand over his eyes. "I'm going home," he muttered, pushing off his chair.

* * *

TBC...


	5. Family Huddle, Pt I

Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs.

* * *

Chapter Five: Family Huddle, Pt. 1

Turk and Carla were at the kitchen table fussing over Izzy while JD sat in front of the television. Another news report on the preschool was on, but JD couldn't really hear it over the deafening sound of Cap'n Crunch cereal being ground between his molars.

"Bambi, it's too early for that. Change the channel or shut that off," Carla said.

JD wordlessly flipped through the channels, settling on a rerun of Speedracer.

"Bye, babies," Carla murmured, kissing Turk on the lips and Izzy on the head. "Bye, Bambi," she said a little louder.

"Bye," JD called out, glancing back at her with a halfhearted wave.

Turk sat down on the couch beside his friend, his daughter nestled between his arm and his chest. "Put the news back on."

JD did, placing the remote control down on the coffee table.

" _. . . same strand of virus was found in the fountain water of the local petting zoo in downtown Sacramento. What's unsettling is that the virus seems to be nothing that anyone's ever seen before, and although it did have striking similarities to Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease symptom-wise, under the microscope, it bears no familiar characteristics of any of the viruses we've dealt with in the past. Researchers are doing their best to identify it."_

"_Ayana, how is the public reacting to this information?"_

"_Pandemonium is spreading like wildfire, Tom."_

"This is insane," JD said in a low voice. "I can't even imagine how Doctor Cox and Jordan are feeling right now. Jack is still being quarantined in that school. Who knows if he's contracted anything."

"Dude, I'm just surprised it hasn't spread. I mean, that fountain water has to be connected to _something_, right? Like a reservoir, or a dam, or what have you."

"We should get everyone together," JD murmured, feeling his stomach clenching with anxiety. "Something could happen."

"Where would we go, man?" Turk said, settling his daughter on his knee. Izzy leaned back, raising her head to glance up at her father. He gave her a wavering smile, kissing her head. "Besides, I have a feeling that we're all going to be stuck at the hospital at some point."

" _. . . the CDC is planning on putting Sacramento on lockdown. All bridges, junctions, and tollbooths will be blocked by the police . . . "_

JD's eyes widened as he scrambled for the remote, raising the volume.

"_This will officially come into effect this afternoon, at 3pm, and will persist until further notice,"_ Mayor Heather Fargo announced. _"This is very important, and I ask that everyone please cooperate. I know this is a very frightening time for us all, but the more organized we become, the less stress we place on ourselves. It is the calm before the storm, and we are taking what preventive measures we can. For all we know, the storm has already begun. Either way, we must be ready for anything."_

"We could rent out hotel suites," JD said over the noise of the television. "Or a motel. I don't think it'd matter. Just as long as we stock up on stuff."

"Who would stay with us?" Turk asked.

"I don't know. Elliot? Doctor Cox and Jordan? Oh, crap. Jordan. I wonder if her mom lives outside of Sacramento."

Izzy whimpered on Turk's lap, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists.

"I'll be right back," Turk told his friend, heading into the nursery with his daughter. "Looks like it's naptime, huh, baby girl?" He stopped just at the doorframe, glancing at JD. "I'll tell Carla and Elliot about your motel idea. And maybe even Doctor Cox if he'll listen. You're okay with watching Izzy tonight?"

JD nodded. "Yeah. It's not like I've got anywhere to go, anyway. I packed a couple of things." He sighed dreamily. "It'll be the most exciting sleepover of our entire lives!"

His friend shook his head with an affectionate eye roll, disappearing into the nursery.

* * *

"I swear to the God I don't believe in, Gandhi, if this is a total waste of my time, I'm going to make sure you're on call for the beginning of every baseball season that occurs while you work in this dump, and I will personally see to it that every opportunity you get to steal away to the lounge and watch the game, there will be something more important for you to tend to, even if it means I have to stab a man seventeen times and send him into the ER, and request you, my favorite, steady-handed surgeon, who has a strange fondness for resectioning Picasso-like injuries. Oh, but don't worry, I'll be nice and carve the score someplace where you can see it."

Doctor Cox grunted when he was met with silence, pivoting on his foot to walk away.

"Doctor Cox," Carla called out, standing beside her husband with her arms crossed to her chest.

A strained noise emitted from the older doctor's throat, and he slowly turned around, his eyes glued to the floor.

"Where's Jordan?" Carla asked softly.

His nostrils flared. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he braced his hands behind his head as he slowly walked back towards the couple.

"What is it, Gandhi?" he asked, and at that very moment, everything within him seemed to deflate. His shoulders sagged, and there was a tiredness in his eyes that Turk hadn't noticed before.

"JD and I were thinking that maybe we should reserve a couple of connecting suites if anything happens," Turk said slowly.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Doctor Cox asked, narrowing his eyes. "That I'm invited to the big slumber party of 2008? Well, gosh, I-I think I'm busy that day."

"Doctor Cox…" Carla said warningly.

"As much as I want to sit around with you girls and watch Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer slap a volleyball around, I think I can find better ways to waste my time, okay?" He shook his head wearily, retreating.

The Latina nurse bit her lower lip. "Doctor Cox!" she called out, her voice cracking.

"What, Carla, _what?_" he demanded, and the two of them had never heard him sound so… So hysterical, so _vulnerable_.

She bit her lower lip when she felt it quiver. "Wh-Where's Jordan?"

Doctor Cox wiped a hand over his face before crossing his arms to his chest. "She's with her mother. She… She doesn't want her to come home." He waved a hand out dismissively. The older man cringed, his lips pulled back in a taut grimace as he ambled out of the lounge. "Just… Just page me."

Carla reached for her husband's hand as they watched him leave. He met her halfway, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Where's Elliot?" Turk asked softly.

She nodded, still staring after the older doctor's retreating back. "We'll talk to her during lunch."

* * *

TBC...


	6. Family Huddle The Onset of Mass Hyster

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

* * *

Chapter Six: Family Huddle/The Onset of Mass Hysteria

JD stood inside the dimly lit self-storage room, waiting on Doctor Cox to find the other light switch. Two more fluorescent light panels flickered on towards the back of the room, casting a bright, pallid light onto the cardboard boxes, plastic bins, and pieces of furniture that occupied the small room.

He watched as the older man squeezed through a small space between a couple of boxes, glancing around himself before his eyes and his hands settled on a navy blue plastic bin that was resting on top of a sleek mahogany table. Doctor Cox tugged the lid off, producing from inside the bin a black, glossy cardboard box. The paper was crinkled, probably due to age or being in the enclosed storage place for so long. Doctor Cox reached in again with both hands and pulled out another three cardboard boxes, though those were significantly smaller than the first. They seemed to be the size of checkbook boxes.

"What are in those?" JD asked, raising his eyebrows.

Doctor Cox looked at him for a moment, as if garnering whether or not he should tell him. He tapped the glossy box. "This here is a revolver, Susan." Then he picked up the three boxes. "And ammo."

JD stared.

"I'm guessing you've never used one of these," Doctor Cox murmured. He grabbed something from a neighboring cardboard box and tossed it over to JD, snorting when the younger man flinched as he caught it. He nodded at the orange and yellow NERF gun his protégé held in his hands. "That's Jack's N-Strike Maverick," he told him, his voice tinged with amusement. "Unfortunately, its anatomy is not very far from this here .357 Remington Magnum, at least when it comes to loading the bullets in the barrel and cocking the hammer. Except the NERF gun requires more of a tugging motion."

"Have you ever used it?" JD asked, glancing at the toy gun in his hand before placing it down on the desk.

"At an indoor firing range. Decades ago." The older man slipped out of the aisle of boxes, handing the boxes of ammo to JD while tucking the box with the gun in it under his arm. "I never had to use it," he said as an afterthought.

JD moved towards the door. "You think you might?" he asked quietly, placing his hand on the door handle.

He shook his head. "I hope I don't."

Doctor Cox locked the door after they left the room. He pocketed his keys as they made their way to the parking lot, where Turk was waiting in the driver's seat of JD's car.

"Carla called," Turk said as the two men got into the vehicle. "She said the suites were too expensive, so she only nabbed one. But she said she got a couple of rooms, and there's one that's got a connecting door to the suite." He shrugged. "I'm guessing Carla and I are taking the bedroom in the suite, but the rest of it could be used as a sort of common room or something."

"Did you get to talk to Elliot?" JD asked.

"Yeah. She decided that she's going to share a room with Keith."

"Christ," Doctor Cox said with a roll of his eyes. "As if I don't see you people enough in that hellhole they call a hospital."

The rest of the ride to the hotel was quiet. Turk opted for the parking lot instead of valet parking. They unloaded everything they'd put in the trunk: a couple of duffel bags, bulk packages of canned foods and instant noodles, and Doctor Cox decided that it wouldn't hurt to relocate most of his mini bar to whatever room he ended up in.

They carried their belongings into the lobby, where Carla, Elliot, and Keith were waiting by the reception desk.

"Perry, you wanted a two-bed room, didn't you?" Carla asked.

The older doctor nodded, placing his armful of boxes onto a luggage cart offered by a bellhop. "Yeah, just in case…" He cleared his throat.

Carla nodded in quiet understanding. "I'm going to need a new check, then, 'cause this only covers a single," she said softly.

"How much for the double?" Doctor Cox asked, digging through his duffel bag for his checkbook.

Carla glanced at the man behind the receptionist desk who nodded and replied, "That'll be two-twenty-four and thirty-three cents, sir."

"Lord, these rooms better be made out of gingerbread," Doctor Cox muttered as he filled out another check, handing it off to the receptionist. He rolled his eyes as he saw JD narrow his eyes and purse his lips in thought.

"What do you mean the milk is expired?!" JD cried out, inevitably, clutching his throat.

* * *

Carla leaned forward to place a kiss on Turk's mouth. "I gotta go pick up Izzy from the sitter. You got work tonight?"

Her husband leaned in to meet her kiss, pulling back to nod at her. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, baby."

Suddenly, a chorus of loud chirps sounded from different parts of the room. Everyone glanced at one another before scattering to check their pagers.

JD grabbed his pager from his jacket pocket. A message scrolled across the LCD screen, reading in capital letters, 'MANDATORY MEETINGS SCHEDULED TONIGHT 7PM AND/OR TOMORROW 9AM ORGANIZED BY THE CDC.'

Carla glanced up from her pager with a worried frown. "Baby, I can't keep her. The sitter has some sort of competition scheduled and she can't take care of Izzy."

"Go ahead," Turk said.

His wife gave him another kiss before rushing out the door.

Doctor Cox appeared in the doorway, shrugging his jacket on. "Well?"

Elliot appeared from her room, Keith trailing behind her. "There's five of us, so… Carpool?"

"Fair enough," Doctor Cox said, grabbing a pair of keys and tossing it over to Turk.

"You know, that's _my_ car," JD piped up as they made their way out the door.

* * *

By the time they arrived at the hospital, the designated lecture hall was nearly filled. They split up and filled out the vacant seats, everyone's eyes drawn to the front desk where Doctor Kelso sat, speaking with a man and a woman wearing business attire.

At seven o'clock, the two suits stood and Doctor Kelso leaned forward in his seat to speak into the microphone.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen," Doctor Kelso said, and before he'd gotten the entire sentence out, there was an uneasy hush throughout the room. He gestured towards the two suits as he introduced them. "These are Doctors Thomas Briars and Penny Stallone. They work for USAMRIID in Frederick, Maryland. They will be speaking to you today and tomorrow about the matters at hand."

Doctor Kelso passed the microphone to Doctor Stallone, who smiled and nodded her thanks.

"Good evening," she said. "Some of you may be realizing just how serious everything has become, especially now that we're physically here. 'We' as in Doctor Briars and I -- members of USAMRIID." Stallone pulled away to clear her throat, glancing at Doctor Briars and nodding at him. She did not speak again until he left the room. "I'd like to begin by telling you that we have decided to use Sacred Heart Hospital as our main base. We may be selecting a few of you to aid us, but please take note that you are not at liberty to discuss any of our activity to anyone. Not even your trusted colleagues, family members, what have you. If caught doing so, you will be penalized. You will lose your job, and you will be incarcerated for an indeterminate number of years. Anyone selected will be notified today or tomorrow personally, or by phone within the next few days."

Doctor Briars walked in with a leather briefcase. He gingerly placed it down on the desk, unlatched the fastening buckles, and took from it a slim laptop. He and Doctor Stallone spent a few moments getting it running and plugging it into an outlet in the desk, and then displaying it on an overhead projector screen directly behind them.

"Today, we will be educating you on the evolutionary process of Virus T9763," Stallone said into the microphone. "This is not confidential. You are merely watching this before it reaches the public. We feel that it is imperative that the hospital staff know what they are dealing with, especially since treatments are going to start here." She pulled away from the microphone to call out, "Briars, get the lights."

As soon as Briars switched off the lights, Stallone selected a document on the laptop's desktop and a media player popped up. On the screen was Stallone herself standing beside a table. On the table was a rectangular-shaped bulk, covered with a thick linen.

"_Last night, a young woman named Andrea Peterson was bitten by her cat, who had been reported to be very domesticated and docile before the incident. It has come to our attention that Ms. Peterson's cat has been infected by Virus T9763 some days ago. We are unable to determine the span of time that has passed, but we do know that it is in its advanced stages. We found that the advanced stage of the virus affect the eyes, but not to the point of blindness. Rather, the sufferer develops a fatal sort of photophobia that makes it extremely painful to see, even in dim sunlight."_

Video!Stallone paused, glancing at the camera. _"Firstly, I must warn viewers that what you will see is… At the very least, overwhelming. At the very most, grotesque." _She bit her lip in an apologetic sort of way.

And then she tugged the linen off the rectangular-shaped bulk.

The viewers seated in the lecture hall flinched at the sight and sound before them. The rectangular-shaped bulk was in actuality a wire mesh cage, and inside it was a screaming, screeching feline. The camera panned in on the frenetic creature, showing the cataracts in its eyes and the astounding defects in its skin.

Doctor Stallone paused the video, and the picture of the cat froze on screen, its jaws yawning and its paw in mid-swipe. "At first, we thought that perhaps the virus is autoimmune," she said.

Briars handed her something. Stallone took it from him and pointed it at the screen. A red dot appeared on the picture, and she directed it onto the lower jaw.

"Looking around the jaw area, you'll find that the skin has deteriorated and the muscle is frayed and torn. The virus causes the muscle to atrophy, but for reasons we cannot explain right now, it seems that the specimen is able to use its muscles to a reasonable extent, as if it has not atrophied at all." She directed the laser pointer to the cat's milky white eyes. "At first, we thought that perhaps the cataracts were due to glaucoma. However, we have proved through several tests that the feline's vision has not been affected in such a way that it has a limited view. The only symptom we know of currently is light sensitivity."

"The cat sustained high fevers and entered a frenetic state of delirium, as depicted in the video. We believe that at this advanced stage of the virus, it is giving itself the opportunity to spread. Virus T9763 is in a way similar to that of rabies, where it is most communicable through bodily fluids. There have been no incidents that have told us whether or not it is airborne."

Stallone cleared her throat. "It appears that Virus T9763 is highly communicable. Hours after Ms. Andrea Peterson was bitten, she presented with identical symptoms. She was isolated and quarantined by the CDC last night, in her own home. We have placed her in a medically induced coma in the hopes that she does not reach the feared state of delirium that the virus hopes to achieve. It has thus far postponed it, and we hope to keep her in this state until we can find a suitable vaccine. As of now, we are debating whether or not the disease is autoimmune or neurological since it has shown signs of altering the sufferer's mental status. We have not yet observed a conscious human sufferer, as both Katy Lambert - the schoolteacher at Sutterville Preschool - and Andrea Peterson had both been placed under medically induced comas before the advanced stages of delirium."

"We have searched for ethical ways of observing Virus T9763 in human specimens, and have decided that there are more than enough citizens in this city who have consented to donating their bodies for scientific research if they do in fact fall ill to this dreadful virus. We, of course, were also given clearance to observe all animals who fall ill, but we are not counting on finding similar symptoms in both species."

"So we're just going to sit around and hope - with, of course, ethical thoughts - that someone who really, really, really wants to suffer 'til their dying breath keels over for the sake of scientific research?" Doctor Cox called out, crossing his arms to his chest.

"Yes," Doctor Briars replied, albeit reluctantly.

Doctor Cox blinked. And then shrugged. "Oh, okay," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

There was a lull of silence.

And then it exploded into rambunctious, indignant hysteria.

Doctor Cox turned his head to a quiet JD. "You see - and I really do think you're dying to know - this is why I took the revolver out of storage. Because when people decide to get desperate, you just don't know _how desperate they're going to get_."

* * *

TBC...


	7. When Tensions Run High

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me. And there is slashy content in this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Seven: When Tensions Run High

There was a soft clink as the ice cubes in Elliot's tumbler shifted, and then a low, high-strung titter.

Everyone lifted their heads to look at her. Doctor Cox raised his eyebrows, raising his own glass to his lips.

"What are we doing?" Elliot sighed, slumping in her seat.

"Seeing as you're too busy depersonalizing everything, Barbie, I'm going to tell you just exactly what we're doing. We're sitting in an expensive suite, sipping tumblers of the Johnnie Walker Blue that I am slowly but surely beginning to regret sharing seeing as the age and the price are bigger than the ages of everyone in this room _combined_. _I'm _revisiting my college years and sharing my living space with people I violently dislike, _you're_ enabling your neuroses by sharing a room with the man-child whose marriage proposal you've just declined, and Carla over there is burning holes into the backs of everyone's skulls because she swears that Isabella Espinosa-Turk, the adorable little sponge, will somehow, some way become pigeonholed into alcoholism just by being less than five feet from a group of intoxicated people."

Elliot nodded absentmindedly. "Thank you, Perry."

"Anytime," the older man sighed, draining the rest of his glass. He glanced across the room at JD, who was sitting on the couch balancing his laptop on his knees, his glass of Scotch whiskey sitting untouched on the coffee table. He got up to sit beside him, gaze locked on the tumbler. "Neat or waterlogged?"

JD glanced down at where Doctor Cox was looking. "Waterlogged, but I get the feeling that you don't care," he remarked.

"Damn right I don't," the older man snorted, plucking the tumbler from the glass table and taking a long sip.

"It's only been a couple of days since the breakout, but I've found pages upon pages of theories about this whole mystery virus," JD murmured softly.

Elliot raised her glass. "Let's hear it. Maybe my head'll stop depersonalizing everything."

"Fat chance," Doctor Cox remarked with a roll of his eyes.

"Okay." JD sat up, a wry smile on his lips. "This one website is written by this ultra-fundamentalist who thinks that the virus is just the beginning of some crazy apocalypse. And he's talking about it like it's some level of hell or limbo that secular liberalists are being put through for their sinful ways, while all the fundamentalists transcend or some crap like that."

"And people are wondering why anyone would start thinking of biological warfare," Carla remarked.

"What is this guy, anyway? Your good ol' nondenominational Christian fundamentalist?" Doctor Cox asked, leaning forward to glance at the website the younger man was scrolling through.

JD shook his head. "Doesn't say."

"What other theories are there?" Elliot asked, placing her tumbler down on the coffee table.

"Umm, most of them have some sort of apocalyptic element," JD murmured. "But there's this one that's drawing from the fact that they found the strain in the fountain water at the zoo. I'm not sure if you guys heard that one in the news yesterday morning." He squinted at the screen, perusing the webpage before sitting back and nodding. "It's all mostly observation, but this blogger is saying that the virus must've evolved pretty quick if it's able to jump from animal to man. He just put a bunch of his thoughts down and supposes that it all probably started with plankton or whatever microscopic organisms can be found in the water, and from then on evolved through bigger hosts. He also thinks that this virus must be as old or even older than the Ebola virus, since that was found in a cave nowhere near human civilization during the '70s or something."

"Oh, God," Elliot moaned, her voice reaching a higher octave, "we're gonna _die_."

"Congratulations on re-personalizing your thoughts there, Barbarella," Doctor Cox remarked acerbically. "Complete with hearts over your lowercase i's and loopy y's, I'm guessing."

Carla came up to stand behind Elliot, squeezing the other girl's shoulder while glaring at Doctor Cox. "And who's depersonalizing now, huh?" she said accusingly, placing a hand on her jutted hip.

"Hey, you guys," JD piped up over Carla and Doctor Cox's staring contest, and Elliot's hyperventilating. He closed the laptop, placing it down on the coffee table like a convict surrendering his weapon and backing away. "It's done. Okay?" When the tension in the room didn't alleviate, he shook his head. "You guys. I'm scared as shit, too, okay?" His voice cracked, and everyone snapped their gazes over to him. "I've got a son in Tacoma that I'm sure I'm never going to see again. My brother, and my mom… I don't think I'll ever…" he trailed off, swallowing hard. "But I'm relying heavily on the fact that I'm not alone in this. And that means neither are you guys. So… we gotta try to keep levelheaded."

"Real touching, there, Nancy," Doctor Cox snarled, breezing out of the room.

JD looked after the older man's retreating back, moving to get up.

"Just leave him be, Bambi," Carla said, stroking Elliot's hair. "Let him stew off for a while."

JD shook his head, pushing off the couch and following after the other man. "This hotel is too expensive for him to break anything," he muttered under his breath.

The younger man found Doctor Cox sitting at a small wooden table in the corner of his two-bed room, gripping another half-filled tumbler between his hands. JD noticed that his knuckles had gone white.

"Get out of here, Newbie," Doctor Cox spat.

JD stood a few feet away from the older man. If he shuffled backwards a couple of inches, the backs of his knees would hit the edge of the bed. "No."

A low growl sounded from the back of Doctor Cox's throat as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you wanna play savior, you're sure as hell not doing it in here."

He slowly, quietly sat down on the bed. When Doctor Cox looked at him in the eye from underneath his lashes, he felt himself flinch, but he refused to look away.

JD tensed when Doctor Cox stood. He watched him cross the room, grab a tumbler from the top of the mini-fridge, and slosh some amber-colored liquid into it from a decanter on his bedside table. Doctor Cox thrust the glass into JD's hand.

JD stared at him in befuddlement, watching the older man as he sat back down at the table, lifting his own tumbler to his lips and watching him in return over the rim of the glass. Shrugging, he followed suit, taking a small sip and immediately cringing at the lingering burn it left in his esophagus, and all the way down to his stomach.

Two sips later, JD sat quietly, watching the older man and feeling the effects of the liquor in his system. He didn't drink hard liquor often, so it was safe to say that he was dangling off the cliff of a buzz, and if he took another sip, his fingers would lose their grip and he'd be tumbling off into insobriety.

JD took another sip.

Doctor Cox was suddenly standing, taking the tumbler out of JD's hand. He gently pressed down on his shoulder, coaxing him to lie down on the bed. JD did so, a frown crinkling the space between his brows as the older man straddled him.

Doctor Cox's mouth was on his, and he found himself responding thoughtlessly, mindlessly. He pressed his lips against the older man's mouth, his hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt, bringing him all the more closer.

JD moaned softly as Doctor Cox finally lowered his body onto his, settling between his legs and pressing himself against him. Both of them took a moment to revel in the feeling, Doctor Cox raveling his arms around the younger man's waist while JD entangled his fingers into his hair. They arched into one another.

"You totally date raped me," JD gasped in accusation as Doctor Cox pressed a heated kiss to his collarbone, and then to the slope of his neck.

"And you totally fell for it," Doctor Cox muttered against his skin. "Like a girl."

* * *

TBC...

A/N: Crap, I'm late for school. I'll finish the next chapter in a couple of hours, promise! XD


	8. Strange Situations and Stranger Bedmates

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

A/N: There is slash in this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Strange Situations and Stranger Bedmates

JD was drunk.

He was drunk enough to be aware of everything he was doing and not care. Okay, so maybe he cared a little bit. Especially with the way Doctor Cox was unfastening his belt and lowering his zipper and sliding his hand into his boxers and enclosing his warm fist around his cock and--

"_Oh,"_ JD gasped, arching into the older man's touch.

Doctor Cox grunted and kissed him.

The older man pulled away, and JD couldn't help but open his eyes and stare at him in wonder. Doctor Cox gave a grimace that told him how much he approved of the look he was giving him - which wasn't a lot - and kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip as his hand found JD's and directed it to the clasp of his own belt.

JD pulled away slightly, lifting his head to see what he was doing. His forehead rested against the stubble on Doctor Cox's chin. Doctor Cox gave him a firm squeeze - causing JD to buck up against him - before removing his hand, allowing the younger man room to fumble with his belt buckle.

The metal gave a satisfying clink as JD undid the strip of leather, and his senses were so over-stimulated that the sound of the zipper being undone seemed to burn through his ears. He hooked his thumbs into the hem of Doctor Cox's pants and the elastic garter of his plain blue boxers, tugging them downwards. The older man lifted and shimmied his hips, his cock bouncing out of its restraints.

JD gasped as Doctor Cox ground his erection against his. He surged his hips upwards in answer, a shuddering moan escaping his lips at the sweet friction it created. Doctor Cox released a ragged breath before his lips were on his again, his hands on either side of the younger man's head as he propped himself up on his elbows above him. JD gasped against his mouth as Doctor Cox flicked his hips against him again, gripping the older man's biceps.

It wasn't long before they found themselves grinding against one another in reckless abandon, Doctor Cox pressing his forehead to JD's. JD was abruptly aware of how noisily the bed was squeaking, punctuated by the resounding gasps and moans coming from the both of them in the large, nearly empty room. And the friction, oh God, the friction, and the way Doctor Cox's fingertips gently combed through the dark hair near his temples, and the way that Doctor Cox--

_Doctor Cox--_

JD cried out as he came, and by the way the older man's thrusts had become frenzied and erratic, he knew that he was close, too. Doctor Cox ground against him, _hard_, one final time that made JD see stars as pleasure zipped through his every nerve and made his toes curl. And then the older man was coming, jerking his hips and digging his toes into the mattress and pressing the front of his thighs against the insides of JD's.

And even though they were more or less both fully clothed and very intoxicated, JD couldn't help but think of how _amazing _it all had felt.

Doctor Cox dropped his head onto the younger man's shoulder.

JD breathed out a nervous, strained laugh.

The older man raised his head, his damp, curly hair brushing against the skin of JD's neck and chin and making him shiver. JD met his gaze, and was surprised in what he saw there. He froze, his eyes locked on the older man's face as he took in the desperation in his eyes, and his thin, parted lips as he panted lightly.

"What are you looking at, Newbie?" Doctor Cox demanded, his voice sounding hoarse. Tired. Vulnerable.

JD bit his lower lip thoughtfully. He slowly, shyly raised his head to kiss him.

Doctor Cox pressed his lips to the other man's, grateful for his silence.

* * *

Elliot raised her head from where it lay on Carla's shoulder, sniffling. "Oh God, what time is it?" she muttered, glancing at her wristwatch. "1:09, frick. I have work in the morning."

Carla smoothed back her friend's hair. "You going to bed?" she asked.

"I don't know," Elliot moaned, sniffling. "I kinda don't want to go in that room after Doctor Cox reminded me just what I've gotten myself into," she whined, _"again."_

"Oh, Elliot, don't pay attention to Doctor Cox," Carla said, patting her shoulder comfortingly.

"But he always knows the worst things to say at the exact worst times," Elliot pouted. She tensed, staring at the door connecting to her and Keith's room. "Carla, why isn't anyone else freaking out over this?" she whispered, her voice small.

"It probably hasn't sunken in yet. I know it hasn't sunken in yet for me," her friend told her. She shrugged. "Plus, ignorance is bliss." She wrinkled her nose. "Until ignorance starts getting all pustulous and rabid, which has been the case lately…"

Elliot glanced at the other door that connected the suite to JD's room. She frowned worriedly. "Is JD still in Doctor Cox's room? I hope he hasn't killed him."

Carla chuckled. "I guess we'll find out in the morning."

* * *

JD instantly lifted his head as his alarm seemed to pierce through his skull, his eyes still tightly shut. His head felt like it was stuffed with gauze and there was a bad taste in his mouth, and his fingers felt sticky and everything about the way his clothes clung to him and the way the coverlet was bunched around his waist felt grimy. He finally opened his eyes, flinging his arm out to shut the alarm clock off. He groaned as he swiped it clean off the nightstand instead, and his head was not very happy with the loud thud it made as it careened onto the floor. In the midst of its tumble, a button was hit, and the piercing alarm was replaced by a loud staticky voice announcing today's weather conditions.

JD unplugged the stupid thing and trudged into the shower, dead on his feet.

He noticed how tired everyone was as they slowly gathered in the common room. Turk was handing Cheerios to Izzy on the couch, but there was a faraway look in his eyes. Elliot and Keith were sitting on separate sides of the couch, Carla was stirring her coffee absentmindedly at the kitchen table, and Doctor Cox…

Everyone glanced up as the suite door was pushed open. Doctor Cox stood behind it, wearing a faux grin.

"Up and at 'em, champs," he said with a false cheerfulness that didn't reach his eyes.

"Later, man," JD told Turk, giving his shoulder a pat.

"Yeah, later," Turk replied with a distracted nod.

JD, Keith, Elliot and Carla followed Doctor Cox to the elevators. The drive to the hospital was quiet.

The hospital, however, was anything but.

* * *

"Ah, Doctor Cox and Doctor Dorian, just who I wanted to see," Doctor Kelso greeted them at the front desk. At JD's inquisitive look and Doctor Cox's customary glare, he explained, "Doctor Erenreich would like to see the both of you."

JD and Doctor Cox followed after him quietly. They were led to an old OR on the second floor, where Doctor Miller, Franklyn, Doug, and a small range of other hospital staff were congregated. As soon as the trio entered the room, a tall, gray haired man sauntered towards them from his spot by the old operating table where he had been looking over a stack of charts.

"Good morning, everyone," he greeted them bleakly. "I'm Doctor Bob Erenreich. I'm here to tell you that some of my supervisors and I have personally gone through all of your files and have discussed some things over with your Chief of Medicine, Doctor Kelso. If you are, indeed, standing here, that means that you have been granted the honor of assisting USAMRIID and the CDC."

JD froze, feeling his stomach drop.

* * *

TBC...

A/N: It was supposed to be longer, but I have a cold and the inspiration isn't hitting me like it normally does. Also, I apologize if the slash seemed out of nowhere. I hope I didn't upset anyone.


	9. Adrenaline

Disclaimer: Scrubs is not mine. And there's a hint of slash at the end of the chapter.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Adrenaline

On one hand, JD was excited. Together, they were a lean, mean, diagnosing machine. At least, they had the potential to be, if he and Doctor Cox were able to look each other in the eye, and if Doug proved to be less of a nervous wreck today and managed to _not _trip and fall and have a bloody cadaver loaded with warm, potent, _fresh _strains of Virus T9763 fall on top of him, or if Franklyn stopped being so darn disagreeable for a few valuable seconds. JD deemed that whoever glanced through their employee charts probably didn't do much of a thorough job of it, especially since they were all selected for their pros with very little to no regard for their cons.

And, of course, Doctor Kelso would say nothing of it, because the CDC and USAMRIID were giving him some sort of commission for allowing them to leech off Sacred Heart Hospital, in all sense of the word.

So, to sum it all up, on one hand--

JD imagined himself sawing off this one hand, tossing it in a dumpster and soldering it shut. And then glancing at the other hand which he favored most of all, firstly because it was his dominant hand, and secondly because this hand wasn't excited about this. At all. And JD agreed wholeheartedly.

"Say, Bob," Doctor Cox piped up, touching a finger to his nose and crossing his arms to his chest, "since I've pretty much had my soul ripped out and sold to the devil - which, to my surprise, I thought was _you _- whaddaya say you humor me and help me get clearance to Sutterville Preschool? Whaddaya say to that, huh, Bob?"

JD kept his ears perked as a moment of silence passed, and then couldn't help but glance up when no answer came for several seconds more.

Doctor Kelso was taking in Doctor Cox's crossed arms, and his tense posture and crazy googly eyes. He then glanced over to Erenreich, who was standing by the old operating table again. Erenreich met his gaze. Something passed between them in that span of time, and Doctor Kelso reluctantly dragged his gaze back towards the Residency Director, slowly shaking his head.

"Sorry, Perry. No can do."

JD watched as Doctor Kelso walked away, and as Doctor Cox clenched his fists and stared unseeingly at the cabinets situated at the far end of the room. He knew the older man was tearing this room apart in his mind's eye, because he just couldn't afford to right now with his bare hands.

"Doctor Dorian?"

He glanced around him for the source of the voice, his gaze finally settling on a middle aged man standing by the door. "Yes?" he murmured, and internally cursed himself for the tremor in his voice.

The corners of the man's lips lifted in a small genial smile. He waved him over with the manila folder in his hand. "Doctor Dorian, I'm Doctor Alex Coleman. I'll need you to come with me, please."

JD didn't know why, but he found himself glancing back at Doctor Cox. The older man was watching them in a detached sort of way. The younger doctor couldn't help but flinch as their eyes met, but the tenseness in his shoulders dissipated at the small nod the other man gave him. JD nodded back before looking at Doctor Alex Coleman again. "Okay," he said. He flashed him a shaky grin. "Please, call me JD."

"JD," Doctor Coleman reiterated, as if testing out the sound. He nodded before tugging open the door and walking out into the hallway.

JD's feet were on autopilot, following this man, but his mind was far, far away. He wondered how Turk was doing, and why his shifts were scheduled opposite of everyone's lately. He wondered what the hell happened last night between he and Doctor Cox, and _why_. He wondered--

He nearly collided into Doctor Coleman as it dawned on him. He screeched to a halt, his eyes wide and his heart racing. No, absolutely not; he did not _wonder_ if they'd do it again - he _hoped_. He hoped so intensely that he could almost taste the scotch on Doctor Cox's tongue, and feel Doctor Cox's calloused fingertips on him again. JD felt himself blush hotly at the inappropriate thoughts that were beginning to surface at a very inappropriate time, at a very inappropriate _place_.

JD stood beside Doctor Coleman in front of one of the clean rooms and wondered just when things had changed so drastically.

"Alright, Doctor Dorian," Coleman said, and then paused. "JD," he corrected himself with a sheepish half-grin. "I'm assigning you to this patient, but for the first couple of days, I'm going to stick around and evaluate you. Her name is Rose Chen and she is sixteen years old. She was reported to have been bitten by a rat yesterday morning, and shortly presented with the symptoms of Virus T9763. I have to warn you, this is the first patient we are treating that we are _not _subjecting to a chemically induced coma. We have found that sedation stunts the delirium stage well enough."

JD felt his mouth go dry as Coleman pulled open the door.

He felt himself follow after the man, albeit numbly. He had expected to enter the girl's room as soon as they stepped inside, but instead found himself in an observation area. All the way to the left of them was a garden hose fastened to a large tank, and a portable closet covered by a tarp curtain. Coleman headed towards that part of the room, beckoning for JD to follow him.

The older man pushed the tarp aside to reveal two biosafety suits.

"These are new. Strip down to your boxers or underwear or whatever. I'll show you how to put this on."

JD couldn't help but pause for a moment. He shot a skeptical look at Coleman and then at the suit before sighing softly, tugging off his scrubs top and then the long sleeve shirt underneath. Coleman pointed to an empty hanger inside the closet.

JD took his sweet time undressing and adjusting his clothing on his assigned hanger.

"It's absolutely important that you don't rush this process, okay? This is the only thing shielding you from whatever contaminants are in that room." Coleman told him, unzipping the front of JD's suit.

It was almost like a onesie, JD thought, except it had a helmet attached to the scruff of it. He zipped himself up while Coleman put something that felt like a headband over the crown of his head, but as soon as two cushioned disks cupped both his ears, he knew that it was some sort of communication device.

"This is already set up on the necessary frequency, the battery is charged every day and is always checked, double checked, and triple checked, so don't worry about it," Coleman said before lifting the helmet-like mask and lowering it onto JD's head. He pressed something on the outside of the suit that made the mask latch onto the neckline of the ensemble. "What's your shoe size?"

"Twelve," JD replied.

Coleman bent down to rifle through the bottom of the portable wardrobe, retrieving a pair of black rubber boots. "Put this on. It'll go over the suit, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay." Once JD toed on the boots, Coleman handed him a pair of rubber gloves.

"These, too."

The older man looked through the closet again, this time pulling out a roll of duct tape. "I'm gonna put this around your wrists and the tops of your boots, okay, kiddo? This is standard procedure. It's just so that nothing gets in there with ya."

JD felt sweat drip down his spine. "Sure."

They spent a few moments taping JD's suit before Coleman suited up himself. They spent a couple minutes more checking one another for rips or tears before heading into Rose Chen's room.

The girl was pale, and the sheets did nothing for her complexion. JD noticed that there were restraints around her wrists and ankles. He also noticed the patches of gauze covering her skin, probably covering the lesions that had ruptured. A patch of gauze was also taped to her left cheek. The skin below her eyes was dark to the point where JD wondered if her skin was bruised. A nasogastric tube was in her left nostril, and several wires and tubes were connected to her, crawling out of her hospital gown.

"The virus has already infected her lungs," Coleman's voice murmured into JD's ears from his headphones.

"What do I have to do?" JD asked, glancing at Coleman.

Coleman smirked. "You remember your intern days, don't you, JD?"

"I'd rather not," he remarked under his breath.

"You'll just be doing the standard nursy stuff. Replace the IV bags when necessary, take notes on her vitals, empty her catheter bag, do blood works. We're going to try putting her on dialysis tomorrow, so someone will be here to assist you with that. You can check over all those things now. Spend some time looking over her chart. Get familiar with it. She starts moaning when the pain starts kicking in, so adjust her morphine drip and her sedative. You'll get to recognize the signs."

JD stood there a moment, trying to take it all in. He glanced at Coleman. "You… You know there's only five clean rooms in this hospital, right?" His voice cracked.

"Don't worry about that, kid," he said with a shake of his head. "This is your job right here. Let the CDC and USAMRIID take care of everything else."

Keeping that in mind, JD tried his best to throw himself into work. By the time he'd checked over everything and read through the girl's chart, he was perspiring in his suit quite heavily. He was slipping the chart back into the slot at the edge of the bed when he heard a soft whimper.

JD glanced up to see Rose Chen blinking her eyes awake. He put on a friendly smile that he hoped she could see through the small window in his mask, coming to her bedside.

"Hi, Rose. I'm your doctor, J--"

Rose screamed at the top of her lungs, pulling at her restraints and kicking her legs. JD watched in horror as she arched her back, writhing, trying to pull free of the nylon bonds.

Her wrists and ankles were starting to bleed.

"_Doctor Dorian!"_ Coleman's voice roared into his headphones.

JD flinched.

"The sedative, God damn it! The sedative!"

He rushed to the IV rack, adjusting a couple things on the infusion pump. After a few seconds, Rose stopped fighting against her restraints. She slumped into the bed, her eyes falling closed.

JD looked at the older man. "You said she'd _moan_," he said accusingly, panting.

Coleman looked nervous. "She's… never done that before, Doctor Dorian. I'm sorry."

The older man wordlessly escorted JD out into the observation area. They took turns hosing each other down with the disinfecting solution in the tank, and then began the long process of dismantling their biosafety suits. JD found himself walking to the locker room in his scrubs, drenched in sweat. Once inside, he peeled them off again and stumbled into a shower stall, where his adrenaline proceeded to leave him. He stood immobile under the hot spray, trembling.

* * *

Every ounce of energy left him the moment they arrived back at the hotel. Everyone seemed to drag their feet as they headed towards their respective rooms.

"Good night," Carla muttered, closing the door to her suite.

"Newbie, heel," Doctor Cox said suddenly, holding his hotel room door open in invitation.

JD froze in place, his keycard already inside the slot. The light blinked red in annoyance, signaling for him to take it out. He wordlessly withdrew it, opening his door only to close it shut again. Once he was sure it was locked, he followed Doctor Cox into his room.

He found himself sitting at the edge of the untouched bed while the older man fixed them glasses of scotch. His stomach turned at the idea of ingesting the foul-tasting liquor.

"Doctor Cox…" he murmured just as the older man pressed the glass into his hand.

"What?" he grunted, turning away from him.

"Are we going to drink every time we do this? Because I think it's killing brain cells. And I'm kinda tired, so maybe…"

The older man took a long swallow of his drink, and JD couldn't help but watch his throat muscles work, his Adam's apple undulating… Up and down… Up… And down…

"Can we talk about this?" JD asked suddenly, his voice sounding very dry.

"Oh, Newbie," Doctor Cox chuckled before he admitted, "that's the very last thing I want to do. So whaddaya say you hop on the bed, maybe get the Bible out from the dresser drawer if you're really concerned about all the brain cells you're losing - although, honestly, with _that _for your reading material, I wouldn't be surprised if you lost more - and just--" He stopped suddenly, shaking his head. "JD, just get on the God damn bed, would you?"

JD readjusted the straps of his backpack, staring into Doctor Cox's eyes. "No."

He turned towards the connecting door to his room, but as soon as his hand touched the door knob, Doctor Cox's hand was on his wrist, swiveling him around, pressing his warm mouth against his. JD found himself flush up against the door and flush up against Doctor Cox. He wound his arms around the older man's neck, surrendering himself to just _feeling_.

And then they were back to where they had been the night before, and he found that he didn't really mind.

JD broke the kiss, meeting the older man's gaze. "You're feeding me after this," he informed him matter-of-factly.

"Fair enough," Doctor Cox snorted, navigating him towards the bed.

* * *

TBC...

A/N: Thanks for all your reviews thus far! I hope you liked this chapter, 'cause this one actually makes me feel a bit antsy... Doctor Cox's and JD's relationship is mainly physical at this point, but be patient... ;)


	10. Frayed

Disclaimer: Scrubs is not mine.

Notes: There is slashy content at the end of this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Frayed

Doctor Cox thought about Newbie.

He wasn't the only one he thought about, though. He thought about the hospital, and Jordan, and Jack. And once he found that the guilt packed on just enough, he'd go right back to thinking about Newbie again. Because right now, Newbie was safe. He was the safest, surefire thought in his mind, and he distracted him well enough. But thoughts… They tend to stray sometimes. And he was never really an optimistic person. Just realistic. So he left those safe, surefire thoughts of Newbie, and thought about the hospital again, and Jordan, and Jack.

Hey, he appreciated that it all went full circle.

But walking around in circles tends to drive one crazy at some point.

He tried to zoom in on how exhilarating it felt just having someone to press into the bed, to be a distraction, to be a… constant. But then something in his mind would remind him just who that someone was. And then he'd find himself sitting, waiting for the wave of disgust that wouldn't come, and that in itself felt disgusting. He tried so hard to zero in on the _what_ and not the _who_, but it was difficult to not make the connection of _what_ you were doing… and inevitably, _who _you were doing it with.

Doctor Cox's - dare he say it - _feelings_ for JD were safe. Distracting. Familiar. Right now, his _feelings_ for JD were what kept him grounded, sort of like an anchor…

But this anchor was submerged under water; Doctor Cox didn't know how deep it was, but he _didn't_ want to drown.

So he kicked and flailed. He drank his scotch. He made sure that he was always _moving_, made sure those muscles that he'd need to jet out of there were well warmed up and ready. When he found himself too comfortable, when he found those muscles getting lax, he'd kick up the sand again, make just enough of a mess that was big enough for him to hide behind while he regained his footing. And after the dust settled, he'd've recovered. But he knew that was only a defense mechanism.

Now, Doctor Cox didn't normally admit to these things so easily. In fact, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't admit to it - to anything - at all.

But this was not a normal day. These were not normal circumstances. Thus, not normal thoughts. It made enough sense.

Doctor Cox inhaled sharply as the gun next to his temple was shoved none too gently against the tip of his nose.

"Where's my daughter?" the man shrieked, his voice cracking.

"Kindly take your gun out of my face," Doctor Cox said between clenched teeth, more so because he was nervous about moving anymore than that.

The lobby was tensely quiet, except for the high-pitched, choked sobs of a patient who had the misfortune of coming to Sacred Heart on this lovely Thursday afternoon. Three security guards surrounded Doctor Cox and his assailant by the front desk, but as big as they were, it was doubtful that any of them could outrun a bullet, or outsmart one sweaty trigger finger of a nervous man who was, right now, probably relying on all the kick-ass action movies he'd seen in his entire life.

"Don't be a smartass," he snarled, cocking the gun. He gripped the doctor's bicep, pulling him backwards towards the corridor behind them. "Where is she?" he pleaded.

"She's in a clean room…" Doctor Cox replied feebly, having no choice but to trail after him. "The elevators are just down the hall. It's on the second floor. I'll take you."

"Y-You better not be shitting me!" the man screamed, his spit flying at Doctor Cox's face, his voice trembling. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed.

"Believe me, I value my life too much to be shitting you," the curly haired doctor said softly. He was mildly surprised at how steady his voice was, but the ringing bells and flashing lights in his head probably made up for it.

The man wasn't strong, and Doctor Cox could probably pummel him into the ground in a heartbeat. But what he lacked in muscle, he made up for with metal and lead. The curly haired doctor only hoped that the security guards had been listening when he'd told him where the clean room was located, because the last thing he wanted to do was step inside that room, protected or no. At this point, he couldn't decide on what was more frightening: the gun to his head or the virus in that room. He supposed the answer would come up eventually, when he was finally faced with both.

He was dragged off into the first available elevator, and he was relieved to find that it was empty. Doctor Cox watched as the man slapped a hand out onto the metal panel, illuminating the button for the second floor. The man tugged him out of the car as soon as the doors reopened.

He wheeled around to face him, pushing the gun into his temple. "Which way?" he demanded.

"Turn left and go straight down," he replied quickly. "L-Listen, I don't think you wanna go in there. She's highly contagious, and you have no idea what that virus is capable of…"

"You think I don't know?" the man barked out, laughing incredulously. "I saw what it did to her. But now I'm afraid of what _you _guys are doing. You know what I read in the newspapers? They're cuttin' these people up. 'For the sake of scientific research,' they say. Bunch of insensitive bastards. They have no idea what this is doing to their families. I'm gonna take Rosie home. If she dies, she'll die in peace, not surrounded by a bunch of kooks who treat her like a living, breathing Petri dish."

"You don't understand," Doctor Cox gritted out. "We're honestly doing what we can to treat her. You shouldn't go in that room. You shouldn't. Last I heard, she's undergoing dialysis. You know what that is? We run all her infected blood through a machine, and it combs through it, gets the dirt out. She's still alive. Trust me, at this point, the best medical breakthrough they're looking for right now is a living, breathing, _improving_ human specimen."

"What do you know?" he asked desperately. "You're just a pawn. You have no say in this. The government owns your ass now. Hell, Sacramento is as good as gone. They'll turn this place into some kind of Area 51 or some shit."

Doctor Cox exhaled, his entire being going against what he was about to do right now. _"Please,"_ he intoned, cringing. "That room is a _hot bed_. The last thing you want to do is go in there. The last thing _I_ want to do is go in there."

"Doc, the pity card is not gonna work right now. It's really not," the man said, almost sympathetically. "I just want my daughter."

Doctor Cox stopped walking, shrugging off the man's hand in a vehement motion. A small sliver of satisfaction ran through him as the guy flinched. "You think I don't know how you feel?" he growled out. "My three year old son is stuck in that fucking preschool. At least you know that your daughter is alive. Being cared for. Being _treated_."

The man's voice took on a higher pitch. He waved the gun around as he threw up his hands. "Doc, I swear it, don't _test_ me! I'll shoot you, I will! I just want Rosie! I just want to take her home!" His face was wet with perspiration and frustrated tears.

Doctor Cox heard the _ding_ of the elevator, the sound of the south staircase door slamming open, and the sound of several feet running down both ends of the corridor. The man scrambled towards him, awkwardly throwing an arm around his broad shoulders and butting the barrel of the gun painfully against Doctor Cox's temple.

"_Freeze!"_ a voice hollered down the hall.

"I'LL SHOOT HIM, I SWEAR," the man sobbed hysterically at the horde of armed police officers who'd stopped a few feet away down the corridor, tightening his arm around the doctor's neck. "I'LL SHOOT HIM!"

"Sir, drop your weapon," the policeman up front drawled out slowly.

"Please, I just want my daughter…" he wailed, raising the hand with the gun in it to swipe at his shiny face. He was practically leaning on Doctor Cox for support now, trembling.

"Give me the gun and go," Doctor Cox said in a low voice.

"_No!!" _the man cried, pressing the gun to his head again. He shook his head so hard that Doctor Cox wondered if he'd gotten whiplash. "No!"

"Just put it down, then," he pressed on as gently as he could at this point, his throat tight with anxiety, with exasperation. "Go on. Just put it on the floor."

"No, no, no…" The man was bawling now, his hold on the weapon loosening.

Doctor Cox found his opening. It was small, and it was risky, but he felt committed to it. Without a second thought, or even a first, he forcefully, bodily shoved the weak-kneed man. His assailant's breath caught in his throat as he cried out in surprise, stumbling forward, the gun tumbling from his slick fingers.

Doctor Cox didn't even check to see if he'd hit the ground. He high tailed out of there, headed down the stretch of hallway behind him. The police officers that had split off in the opposite direction were facing him now, and they all moved around him like the rushing rapids around a fixed boulder. His legs burned and his heart hammered as though he'd just run a marathon, but he forced himself to push forward, to at least make it to the opposite stairwell. He could hear nothing but the sound of his feet pounding against the tiled floor, his heart hammering in his ears, his labored breathing.

By the time he'd reached the top of the steps, his legs felt like jelly. His knees wobbled as he slowly made his way down the stairs, practically barreling into the first floor door. Two nurses standing by the door jumped and yelped, but he was much too tired to glare or even snarl at them. He shoved the door open once they cleared out of the small corridor, his legs on autopilot as he trudged towards the lounge.

"Perry!" a startled, high-octave squeal came from somewhere in the room.

Doctor Cox sank into the couch and held his head in his hands, not even bothering to look up at the room's other occupant.

Elliot stood behind the couch, her entire frame tense, her hands tightly clasped together. She bit her lower lip, her eyes tearing as she stared at his broad back. "Are you hurt?" she whispered, her voice small. She watched him wordlessly shake his head.

The blonde hurried towards the sink behind her, grabbing a mug from one of the cabinets and filling it with water. She hurried to his side, hesitantly sitting beside him. Elliot noticed that he was shaking.

"Here," she said, offering him the cup. A wave of relief swept through her as he took it, but watching his shaking hand was more than a little unsettling. The water sloshed against the sides of the mug as he lifted it to his mouth, drinking it ravenously. "Do you need anything?"

"Naproxen. More water. Leave me alone."

"Okay," she said, nodding. She took the empty mug from him. "Okay."

Doctor Cox listened to her flail about the room, filling his cup again and placing it down on the coffee table before flitting out the door in search of some Naproxen. He grimaced as his head throbbed, and then made an exasperated noise as his grimacing proved to worsen it.

He had no real sense of time, but it was a long moment before the door opened again. He glanced up to see Doctor Kelso and Elliot trailing behind him. The blonde handed him a plastic cup with two capsules of Naproxen in it before heading out the door again. Doctor Kelso quietly stood over him as he took the pills into his mouth, washing it down with water.

"Go home, Perry. They can come back for your statement tomorrow," Kelso said gently.

"Right," Doctor Cox replied, blinking. He didn't move from his seat. "Thanks."

* * *

JD jumped slightly when Doctor Cox's door opened. The older man walked in, pausing when he saw him leaning against the doorframe connecting their rooms together.

He looked terrible. His face was damp with sweat, and there were shadows under his eyes. His curly hair was flat and matted, and he could see his hands shaking as he put his things down on the bed.

JD watched quietly as Doctor Cox strode into the bathroom. He sighed softly as he heard the shower come on.

He walked further into the room, sitting down on the unused bed, listening to the sound of running water and staring at his hands. He raised his head when the water shut off a couple of minutes later, biting his lower lip as the door opened, small wisps of steam escaping from the small bathroom.

Doctor Cox walked out with a towel around his waist and another hanging limply atop his head. He rubbed the towel into his hair, sinking down onto the bed beside JD. He sighed, tossing the towel onto the neighboring bed.

JD leaned back onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. Doctor Cox watched him a moment before mirroring his stance, his hand coming between them to capture JD's. The younger man watched as the older man's thumb stroked the inside of his palm before his fingers moved down, trailing over the pulse point on his wrist.

He was scared to move, and he wondered if Doctor Cox felt the same way. They'd kissed, squeezed, rubbed… But somehow, this felt more intimate than anything they'd ever done. JD felt his heart flutter almost agonizingly in his chest as the seconds passed.

Doctor Cox leaned forward, an unreadable expression on his features. He brushed his lips against JD's, once, twice, before he gently ushered him fully onto his back. Slowly, he straddled him and tugged the younger man's shirt off, kissing his collar bone, and then kissing a soft, warm trail down the center of his chest. JD gasped, his skin tingling exquisitely under the older man's ministrations. Doctor Cox circled his tongue around a nipple before catching it between his teeth, gently tugging. JD moaned as the sensation went straight to his cock. He bucked his hips against the older man's, a breathy whimper escaping his lips as Doctor Cox thrust back.

Doctor Cox's arms circled his waist as he settled between his legs, the towel bunching up between them. JD hurried to push down his own pants, and Doctor Cox lifted off him briefly so he could kick them off as well as divest himself of the damp towel.

They'd never been fully naked before. JD bit his lower lip, running his hands up the older man's bare forearms. They caressed his broad shoulders before making their way down his muscled back. He gave a small smile as Doctor Cox shivered.

Doctor Cox claimed his lips, his hands sliding down the length of his back before he moved lower to cup his ass, giving it a firm squeeze. JD gasped against his mouth, allowing him to swirl his tongue between the younger man's lips. He grunted as JD wrapped his legs around his waist, lifting his hips to grind his cock against his.

"Oh, fuck," JD cried out, arching his back.

"JD…" Doctor Cox sighed, pressing a kiss to his neck.

They ground against one another until they both came, the bed squeaking noisily beneath them.

JD tensed when Doctor Cox tightened his arms around him and pressed his face against his throat. Something warm and wet trickled into the junction between his shoulder and neck, and JD found himself holding Doctor Cox tightly, threading his fingers through his damp curls.

* * *

TBC...


	11. In Differences and In Retrospect

Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me. Light mentions of slash throughout the chapter.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: In Differences and In Retrospect

Doctor Cox blinked as a sharp knock pulled him from his fitful slumber. He lifted his head off the pillow to glance over at the clock only to see darkness, and the stream of moonlight from the window hitting JD's naked back.

He let out of heavy sigh as the knocking continued, pushing himself off the bed and grabbing the neglected towel off the floor. He wrapped it around his waist before cautiously reaching out his right hand, feeling around in the darkness for the light switch to the light bulb in the hallway. He flipped it on only to growl when no light came.

Carla stood behind the door when he opened it, a small flashlight pointed straight at his face.

"I've been knocking for almost ten minutes," Carla huffed. Her features softened. "Are you okay, Perry?"

Doctor Cox grimaced, swatting the flashlight from his line of vision. "What the hell is going on?"

"Power outage," she said. "Have you heard from JD? He's not answering his door."

He groaned, glad that it was dark enough to hide his blush. He wiped a hand over his face. "It's very possible that he's sleeping, Carla, but I assure you, as much as he is somewhat of a man-child, the boogeyman stopped preying on him a long time ago."

She directed the flashlight onto his naked torso. "Were you in the shower?" she asked, frowning. "Are the lights working for you?"

"I was, several hours ago, but I whimsically fell asleep as some weary victims are apt to doing after a good twenty minutes of having their life threatened. And no, while I am admittedly a spectacular member of the human species, I--"

Doctor Cox heard more than saw her eye roll. "You can stop ranting now, Perry, it's me," she snorted. "You sure you don't want to talk?"

"To talk? No. Some dinner, if it's available, I can go for."

Carla was quiet for a moment. She sighed softly, nodding. "Okay. Get dressed and come to the suite. We're trying to work something out."

Doctor Cox nodded, shutting the door.

He dug around in his duffel bag for a penlight before returning back to bed, mentally bracing himself. JD had always gone back to his room since this little… tryst had begun, and waking up to him had been more than a little disorienting. He'd focused on the task at hand, though, which a few moments ago was to reach the door without dismembering himself, but now that that was over and done with, he was approaching one of many bridges that he'd been reluctant to cross from the start.

Doctor Cox sighed and sat down on the bed, his towel-clad hip brushing JD's bare side. "Mabel," he ground out, poking the other man in the ribs.

JD snorted in his slumber, swatting his hand away.

He growled and smacked his backside, earning him a startled shout and a drowsy glare. "C'mon, JD," Doctor Cox muttered, "time to go on out there and throw yourself into some parody of normalcy, which of course means you'll have to pretend that you've never experienced the amazing sensation of me between your thighs. And, I know, this is difficult, but--"

"You know this is all passing over my head, right?" JD asked sleepily.

Doctor Cox smirked, giving the other man's hip an affectionate smack. "When does it not?" He shook his head. "Get dressed and get into character, Newbie."

"Where are we going?" he asked, confused.

"The Espinosa-Turk love shack," he replied distractedly. "Carla was knocking on your door, looking for you…"

JD was quiet. "I, uh, I'm sorry, I fell asleep--"

"Newbie," he interrupted quickly, curtly. He took a deep breath, released it slowly. "It's… It's okay." He stood and faced away from him, shining the penlight towards his duffel bag and thus ending the conversation, at least for now. He heard JD leave the bed as he searched for some clothes in the dark, watching his outline in his peripheral vision as he headed for the connecting door - and running into the refrigerator along the way, but heading to the connecting door nonetheless. He snorted.

Doctor Cox slipped into a t-shirt whose color he couldn't exactly make out in the darkness and the khakis he'd put on this morning before leaving his room, still wielding his penlight. He made his way into Carla and Turk's suite and was suddenly overwhelmed by a heavy, aromatic scent.

He sniffed. "Dear God, is that… is that _sandalwood_? Because if I just walked in on some blackout orgy fun, please allow me to take five steps back and out of this room."

"It was the only candles I had," Elliot said defensively. "The wax is hypo-allergenic…" she trailed off.

"More than I needed to know," he groused. "What's for dinner?"

"I'm working on it," Turk grumbled from the small dining area. "Man, this is gonna take a while and I have no idea how much life is left on this surge protector. It has a battery backup that lasts for up to seventy minutes, but I'm not sure if it's been charged long enough…"

Doctor Cox came forward, staring at Turk and the items strewn all over the dining table in front of him. "Gandhi, pray tell, what are you doing with that coffee maker?"

"I'm using the metal hotplate to cook our hamburger patties before they get bad," Turk grumbled. "I hope you like your burgers a little bloody." As if to demonstrate, he removed a frozen hamburger patty from a cardboard package near his elbow and slapped it onto the metal plate. It sizzled loudly.

"Oh, great. If we don't die of starvation, we'll die of food poisoning instead," Doctor Cox remarked with a groan.

* * *

JD pulled back the heavy curtains, blinking as the moonlight filtered into his dark room. He sighed and sat on his bed, running a hand through his unruly hair.

Things were different, and it scared him. There were times when he couldn't even fathom how far from familiarity he'd gotten over the past seven years, what with Carla and Turk pushing him out of the apartment, and then living in a tent, and then finally living in an apartment of his own. And then Kim had come along, and Sam…

But things were even _more _different now, and it scared him. He was frightened every time he walked into work, he was frightened every time he made his way back 'home,' he was frightened when Doctor Cox laid him down on his crisp hotel room bed sheets, but after that, it was a whole different ball game. He couldn't believe that he was so tired of being frightened that for a while, he'd completely ignored the ramifications, his thoughts, his feelings on… whatever he and Doctor Cox were doing now.

But today had been different, and that frightened him.

_'Hey, JD. Doctor Cox is coming back early… He was held at gunpoint. He was really shaken up, so… Just giving you a heads up.'_

He'd stared at Elliot's text for a long while before deciding to wait for him in his room.

There was an air of vulnerability that Doctor Cox had been allowing JD to see lately, when they were both alone, staring at one another and sipping his foul-tasting scotch. JD didn't know what to do with it, just like he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt as though he'd been thrown into a gray area. Everything about it seemed so vague and unfamiliar that he didn't even know _what _to anticipate, so when things finally hit him, they hit him _hard_.

It didn't help that Doctor Cox was so... guarded. Once they were lying beside one another, gasping and spent, the walls would go up, kind of like the drawbridge of a castle, being pulled up by thick metal chains - and when it was sealed shut, it really was sealed shut.

But today had been different, and it really threw him off. The hand-holding. And… Doctor Cox crying. There had been a certain bareness to the entire situation, and the fact that for once, they'd been completely naked, well, that added to it, too. JD wouldn't call it romantic, but he couldn't deny that there was some sort of intimacy there, and on all sorts of levels.

He sighed and laughed, shaking his head. He really was a girl.

He put some clothes on before digging through the few duffel bags he'd brought with him. He needed to go back to his apartment soon to sort through his mail and take care of bills and things. But this power outage was different, and he couldn't help but think that it signified that things were getting worse.

Maybe even a whole lot worse.

He found his alarm clock in one of his bags. He put some batteries in and turned on the radio, heading towards the window again for some source of light. He squinted at the dial as he scanned through different radio stations, alternating between AM and FM. There were some clear ones coming in, so that might've meant that not all of Sacramento was affected…

JD headed to Turk and Carla's room, still holding onto the radio. The door was held ajar, the metal piece of the security latch wedged between the door and the door frame. He pushed it open, his senses assaulted by the smell of sandalwood and a loud hissing noise coming from the small dining area.

"Good evening, Bambi," Carla greeted him. "You sleep like the dead," she teased.

JD blushed in the darkness. "Um," he muttered intelligibly. "Yeah…"

Carla sat up as he plopped down on the couch next to her. "You okay?" she asked worriedly, rubbing his back.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" He bit his lower lip. "Things are just grating on me, I guess." He sighed. That was the painfully abridged version, but he just didn't know where he should begin, and what he should omit. Well, he knew _exactly _what he should omit, but that was a large part of what was grating on him in the first place.

"Yeah, it's all grating on everybody," Carla sighed. "I know this isn't a five or even a four star hotel, but you'd think they'd have a generator or something…"

JD nodded absentmindedly. "How long has the power been out?"

"For almost an hour now, but doing everything by candlelight is starting to hurt my eyes," she replied, rubbing her eyes with her fists. She glanced at the radio. "Anything interesting come up?"

He shook his head. "Nothing yet. Some of the stations are really clear, though, so I'm guessing not all of Sacramento was affected." JD offered it to her. "I'm gonna talk to Turk." He took a seat beside Doctor Cox, keeping his eyes trained on whatever Turk was doing. "Hey, C-Bear," he greeted cheerfully.

"Vanilla Bear, hey," Turk said with a grin. "We've all been kinda MIA, huh?"

JD gave a gloomy nod. "Yeah." He noticed just what his best friend was doing and he gave a nostalgic half-smile. "Are you cooking hamburger patties on a metal hotplate?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah, man," he laughed. "I don't know how long the surge protector's gonna last me, dude. I probably haven't charged it since the last time we went camping."

JD frowned. "You mean the time we camped out at Toys 'R' Us to get first dibs on the X-Box?"

He grinned. "Yeah." He shook his head. "I can't believe you shoved that kid, dude."

"He started it!"

Turk laughed, still shaking his head. "V-Bear, I've really been meaning to talk to you," he said in a low voice, "but it's either we're both at work, or… Is something wrong, man? 'Cause you've been in your room a lot lately."

JD felt himself flush, and caught Doctor Cox looking away. "Yeah, um, I've been kinda down," he muttered. It was the truth - just not really the whole truth. "My job with Doctor Coleman is really getting to me. I mean, I know we're not supposed to talk about it…"

"Yo, me too," Turk said in a hushed whisper. "I guess we're not allowed to disclose patient information or something, but aw, man, yesterday, it was _horrible_. I thought that the CDC was giving everyone an equal opportunity to be treated, but the other night, we had to refuse this guy 'cause he had no insurance."

JD's eyes widened, and even Doctor Cox glanced back to passively participate in the conversation. _"What?"_

"Yeah," Turk murmured, biting his lip. "I mean, they stabilized him and he was pretty dehydrated so they put him on a dextrose drip, but after that, they sent him away… Last I heard, he was going to try for the free clinic, but I don't know how much they can do."

He gave a melancholy nod. "I'm getting pretty phobic in the clean room Doctor Coleman assigned me to," he said with a shudder. "It doesn't help that he doesn't go in there with me anymore. He helps me into the suit and he tells me when to come out, and after that he hoses me down with that cleaning solution, but that's about it. And it's all really fishy because I'm only given that task, and even though there're a lot of instructions and I gotta be really meticulous about everything, that's all they've told me since they pulled me in. He even said to me in the beginning, 'This is your job right here. Let the CDC and USAMRIID take care of everything else.'"

Turk nodded at Doctor Cox. "I heard that they pulled you in, too. What are they having you doing?"

"Ambulance duty," he replied with an eye roll, "but it's more like babysitting. We go off to patients being quarantined in their homes… I tried to get them to take me to the preschool, but apparently eleven blocks that-a-way is the district cutoff for my particular team. I'm thinking they did that on purpose, that and the fact that out of everyone in that division, I'm disallowed driver duty." He shrugged.

"Kelso's probably unhappy about losing all his regulars," Turk snorted, using a fork to flip the burger.

Doctor Cox barked out a laugh. "Last I heard, ol' Bobbo's retirement's been put on hold until this entire thing blows over. He's pulling double shifts in the ICU with everyone sectioned off."

"Yeah, and Carla's been complaining that the nursing staff is getting the brunt of it," Turk said with a shake of his head.

"Next time you're in the labs, you should ask Franklyn to give you a peek at the virus," JD said quietly. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. They hauled some really fancy equipment in there, too."

"Yeah, no way," Turk snorted. "I've already got my perpetually suited self up to my _elbows _in the stuff. I don't wanna be anymore intimate with it in any other way at this point. I even stopped watching the news 'cause I don't wanna know what type of crap they're saying."

"Apparently a load of bullshit, according to the scrawny guy who held me hostage today," Doctor Cox remarked, his gaze averted from the both of them. "They're certainly feeding everyone the worst entrée they can dish out if it was able to drive a man like Mr. Chen to walk into the only institutionalized safe haven in Sacramento with a handgun in his pocket."

JD's eyes widened. "Mr. _Chen_?" he hissed.

"Yeah." Doctor Cox said, staring at the other man expectantly.

"Dude, if you know something, say it," Turk pressed on.

"I shouldn't," JD muttered.

"Oh, screw it, Newbie," the older man said. "The three of us were pulled in by the CDC, and if you really think about it, everything is gonna slip out of their control anyway. There are far too many people in that hospital who know about what's going on now. Something is bound to escape, and I do mean that literally and figuratively."

"Rose Chen," he said quietly, raising his gaze to Doctor Cox's for confirmation. At his nod, he went on, "She's been my patient."

"I heard they're doing dialysis treatments now," Doctor Cox said. "How's that working out?"

"It's not," JD muttered. "The virus is too fast. The blood goes through the machine, but it seems like the virus is touching upon unaffected blood cells as quick or maybe even quicker than the dialysis process. So once the clean blood makes its way back into the body, the immune system doesn't even stand a chance. The virus immediately attaches itself onto the clean cells. Every single organ in that girl is degenerating. Every day, she's getting worse and she's showing signs that she's just about ready to bleed out. We tried treating her without putting her into a coma because for some reason, that puts the virus in a dormant stage. And the reason why the specialists are so averse to that is because it's hard to detect when it's dormant. At least, that's what I gathered…"

"Gandhi, do you remember when you operated on Lambert and you said that the corticosteroids were working? Are any of your patients being placed on those?"

JD and Turk frowned and shook their heads.

Doctor Cox stared. "What the _hell_? What the fuck are you doing?"

"Anti-cholesterol and fungal drugs," JD said. "Why wouldn't they use corticosteroids if it even showed some _hint _that it was working? An increase of white blood cell count, visible improvement, _anything_."

"I think they're trying to focus on the whole neurological facet," Turk said quietly. "It doesn't seem like they believe that the immune system can just shut down like that all by itself."

"I guess that'd make sense if we had more time," Doctor Cox said between clenched teeth. "Especially if they went crazy and pumped all the medicines they could find to see if any of them were working in the first place."

"But they'd have to wean them all off if one of them did start working," JD said with a frown. "I wonder how much recovery time the virus would need to bounce back, if it even can."

Doctor Cox looked at JD. "Are you allowed to look at the intravenous drips?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I gotta keep track of everything that goes into that girl."

"Try to remember everything they put in her. Everything. The anti-fungal drugs, the anti-cholesterol drugs, the supplements."

"Why?" Turk asked.

"If we ever need to get out of here, at least we know what has the potential to work," Doctor Cox said.

"You guys?" Carla called out before raising the volume on the radio.

All three of them glanced back at her. She was alone on the couch, clutching the radio to her chest.

"What?" Doctor Cox demanded.

"Just listen," Carla told them.  
_  
"…blackout due to an abrupt wave of vermin occupying the manholes. Not only are they gnawing on everything they can find, but aw man, the National Guard sent some of their guys down there, and whew, it looks like they're heading towards the water systems, Benny. There is no news yet on whether these rodents are infected, but I think it's in everyone's best interests to stay on the precautious side until this eases up. Drink bottled water or scotch or something, just stay away from the tap…"_

Doctor Cox snorted, standing from his seat.

"Where are you going?" JD asked, slightly alarmed.

"You heard the man," the older man said with a wry grin. "I think it'd be in our best interests to knock back a couple of tumblers."

"I guess liver disease is the better way to go at this point," JD said with a resigned sigh.

* * *

JD laid in bed with his flashlight pointed at the ceiling, tracing over a crack in the plaster with the small beam of light. He heard the connecting door open, and dragged his eyes in that direction without lifting his head. "Doctor Cox?" he slurred softly as his mattress sunk under the other man's weight.

"Yeah?"

JD directed his gaze back onto the ceiling. "Fuck me?"

"Really?" Doctor Cox asked, sounding almost startled.

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah." He felt the older man's lips on his neck as he straddled his waist, hot hands sliding underneath the fabric of his t-shirt.

"You got any lube, JD?" Doctor Cox murmured into his ear, his breath warm against his skin.

JD shivered, sitting up. He pressed an openmouthed kiss to Doctor Cox's mouth before pulling away slightly. "Yeah." He leaned back and extended his hand, pulling open his bedside table drawer and digging through it.

"Didn't think you'd think this far ahead, Newbie," Doctor Cox admitted, pressing a drunken kiss to his forehead.

"Yeah, well," JD murmured as he pressed the bottle into the older man's hand, "seems like I've been thinking of a lot of different things lately."

Doctor Cox reeled back to glare at him in the darkness. "I'm going to penalize you like you've never been penalized before for that near sentiment-ridden comment, Aubrey." And then he smashed his lips onto the younger man's, reaching between them to tug open his jeans.

* * *

TBC...

A/N: This was a lot longer than I intended it to be, but it all works out 'cause I won't be able to poop out another chapter until maybe the end of my semester. Or earlier, it depends. Thanks so much for sticking around for this, you guys! It's been a fun ride thus far.


	12. Interlude

A/N: blushblushblush Smut, full speed ahead. Um, tell me if it sucked? XD

* * *

Interlude

"Relax, JD."

JD let out a nervous titter, biting his lip as Doctor Cox cupped an ass cheek and gave it a gentle squeeze. He felt the older man lean into him, pressing an openmouthed kiss to his shoulder blade as he slipped a lubricated finger, digit-up, between the cleft of his ass.

Doctor Cox smirked against the skin of his back, massaging the ring of muscle. "Think of it like a free prostate exam."

The younger man laughed, feeling his tense body relax a little. The muscles in his thighs trembled in anticipation.

Doctor Cox suddenly smacked his rear, causing him to jump and yelp. "Alright. Turn around, bright eyes."

"What?" JD frowned, but twisted around so that he was laying on his back.

"You're too tense," Doctor Cox said, grabbing hold of his hips and dragging the younger man closer to him. He settled between his legs and laid atop him, sliding his arms around JD's slender torso and bending his head forward. JD shivered as his curls brushed against the skin of his neck. "Relax," he whispered, burying his face in the younger man's throat.

JD let out a soft gasp as Doctor Cox's eyelashes fluttered against his skin. He huffed to himself, wondering why such a small gesture was so… _titillating. _He watched as Doctor Cox raised his head to look into his face. "Kiss me," he murmured.

"Such a girl," the older man chuckled, but complied nonetheless.

JD raised his head to reciprocate, moaning into the older man's mouth as they began to grind against one another. Doctor Cox pressed him into the bed, rolling his hips against JD's. A groan escaped his lips just as the younger man threw his head back, whimpering.

Doctor Cox continued to kiss him as he slipped a hand between them again, wrapping it around JD's erection and stroking it slowly, his thumb barely tracing over the underside of his head. The younger man bucked up his hips to meet him, and Doctor Cox took the opportunity to move back some and sit on his haunches, reaching behind his balls to gently rub that ring of muscle again.

JD whimpered as Doctor Cox squeezed the base of his cock, his eyes shooting open as Doctor Cox's wet finger wiggled its way past his entrance.

"Shh," the older man murmured, beginning to stroke him again.

JD relaxed, allowing him to push through past his second knuckle. Doctor Cox twisted his finger around as he slowly thrust it in and out, letting the younger man get used to the feeling - and the motion.

"You okay?" Doctor Cox asked, his other hand gently rubbing his balls.

JD nodded, inhaling sharply. "I'm okay."

"I'm gonna add another finger," he warned. He slathered his fingers with the lube again before pressing both into the younger man's entrance until the first knuckle of his index finger. JD hissed at the stretch, clenching around him. Doctor Cox gently leaned forward, brushing his lips against his before kissing at his neck. He thrust his fingers in further as JD relaxed.

"Perry…" JD moaned, raising his hips to meet the older man's fingers. He felt the older man's fingertips brush against the top wall, and suddenly he was crying out and shuddering at the wave of pleasure that overtook him.

Doctor Cox smirked at him in the darkness, squeezing the base of his cock. "Liked that, did you?"

"Oh, yes," JD groaned. "Best prostate exam ever," he giggled.

The older man snorted, gently wiggling another finger in on an inward thrust. He curled his fingertips upwards again, rubbing. JD's hips surged forward, and the younger man swore as the titillating sensation enveloped him again.

"Please, Perry, please…"

Doctor Cox didn't know when the kid had started calling him by his first name, but he did realize that they were crossing one of those bridges he'd been reluctant to cross in the first place. And he definitely blamed his intense reactions on the scotch… Yeah, that was definitely it.

"You have condoms somewhere, JD?"

He nodded, panting. "It's in the same drawer you found the lubricant."

Doctor Cox dug blindly through the drawer, his hand settling on a thin, square-shaped box. He ripped it open and spilled its contents out onto the bedcovers, taking one of the plastic wrappers and hurriedly tearing it open.

JD watched anticipatorily as the older man slid the condom onto his cock. He spread his legs as Doctor Cox settled in between them, taking one of the pillows under JD's head and sliding it under the younger man's rear.

"Ready?" Doctor Cox gritted out, his voice sounding strained.

The younger man nodded wordlessly.

He positioned his cock at JD's entrance, and then thrust halfway in in one smooth motion.

JD wailed out in pain, gripping the sheets, clenching and writhing underneath him. Doctor Cox groaned, grabbing the younger man's hips and holding him down. He took a moment to breathe, listening to JD's labored breathing slowly but surely smooth out as he clenched and unclenched around him.

"Oh God," JD whimpered.

"You okay there, JD?" Doctor Cox grunted, his voice wavering along with his self-control.

"It's… I'm…" He shook his head before tentatively lifting his hips, clenching around the older man. _"Ooooh."_

Doctor Cox took that as his cue, flicking his hips forward and filling JD fully. And then he pulled out only to gyrate his hips as he slammed back in, buried in JD to the hilt. He groaned at the tightness, the slickness surrounding him…

"Oh God, Perry, please, oh _God!"_

They found a brisk rhythm, Doctor Cox rolling his hips with every inward thrust, hitting that spot that had JD writhing and moaning and clenching and mewling. He slowed his thrusts as JD wrapped his legs around his waist, leaning forward to kiss the other man, deep and slow. He pressed a kiss to the younger man's neck before pulling back slightly, bracing both hands on either side of JD's head before he slammed his hips forward again in short, teasing thrusts, and again and again and again until the younger man was screaming and digging his fingers into Doctor Cox's shoulders, babbling almost incoherently.

"…_fuck, fuck, fuck, _I'm gonna--"

Doctor Cox grunted, grabbing hold of JD's cock and squeezing as he plowed into his tight ass. JD cried out, his hips twitching erratically as he came. The older man followed seconds after, burying himself in JD's warm heat, moaning as the younger man tightened his legs around his waist.

* * *

It was cold when JD woke up. He burrowed into the warm body beside him, pressing his face to a broad chest and tangling his legs carefully with Doctor Cox's. He distantly heard the hum of the central air vent, which meant that the power had come on sometime during the night.

He purred as he felt calloused fingertips travel up and down his side.

"Up, JD," Doctor Cox's sleep-filled voice said above him.

"Don't wanna," he groused.

The older man grunted, and JD found himself tensing in fear. Was the older man leaving?

Doctor Cox sighed, looking down at him. "It's cold," he said by way of explanation.

JD blushed, raising his eyes to look at him. "Oh."

Just as they were scooting up to grab the blankets from underneath them, several urgent knocks sounded at the door.

"Shit," JD whispered, sitting up in alarm. And then winced and flopped back onto the bed and against the older man's side as his sore muscles protested at him. _"Shit, shit, shit…"_

"JD?" Carla's voice called from the other side of the door. "JD, open up. It's important."

Doctor Cox inhaled sharply before sighing, looking at the younger man askance. "I'll get it," he grumbled, getting off the bed.

"What?" JD hissed, his eyes widening in panic. "Wait, no--"

"It's either you get up and tear something or I get up and get torn into by your best friend's wife. Either way, both are gonna smart like hell." When JD's only response was to groan and tug the covers over his head, the older man pulled on his khakis and approached the door, pulling it open forcefully.

Carla's fist was raised in mid-knock, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping. She took in Doctor Cox's wayward curls and naked torso, and at least had the decency to blush. Her mouth snapped closed and she put her fist down before trapping him with a glare. "Ooooh, you are so in trouble, mister."

* * *

A/N: still blushing Anyhoo, uh, thought I might leave the rest of it hanging on at least a good note while you wait out the next chapter, which unfortunately won't be for a few days (or a week or two) 'cause I've got so much work to do. I'm thinking I might end this story in a couple of chapters and just make a sequel, 'cause the ideas in my head are getting too long and winding. I haven't decided yet.

(I love reviews! And even though I'm a bit on the insecure/sensitive side, constructive criticism would be wonderful, too.)


	13. Sticky and Virulent

Disclaimer: Scrubs is not mine.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Sticky and Virulent

"Where do you think you're going?"

Doctor Cox tensed in the doorway before stiffly turning around to look at Carla. "Painkiller," he grunted, leaving the room.

"Bambi," Carla sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed. She saw the younger man's shoulders go rigid before he turned over to face her, his eyes lowered and his face flushed. "How long has this been going on?" she asked in a very no-nonsense tone.

JD glanced up when he saw Doctor Cox appear in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with a bottle of water in hand. Carla followed his line of sight, narrowing her eyes a little as the shirtless man strode almost calmly into the room, shutting the door behind him with his hip.

"What's so important?" Doctor Cox asked noncommittally, approaching the bed. He held out two white capsules and the water bottle to JD.

Carla watched their interaction warily. "A lot of things, actually." She looked at JD as he swallowed down the pills. "Bambi here hasn't answered my question yet, though."

JD flushed even more. "Less than a week," he grumbled.

Doctor Cox's face was carefully neutral. "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, I'm gonna go right ahead and show you to the door. Because as much as I respect you, Carla - and really, I honestly do - you may be the queen bee of the hospital gossip mill--"

"You honestly think I can't keep quiet when it counts?" Carla asked, sounding petulant.

"Not when you've a tendency to tag team with your husband and go all Chatty Cathy with My Size Barbie."

Carla was quiet for a moment, watching the pair while they in turn watched her. The entire room seemed to be holding its breath. She finally looked at JD. "You left your cell phone in the suite. Dan called earlier."

"Is that all?" Doctor Cox asked with a scowl.

"No," Carla said, her tone teasing, "but perhaps I can hold off until later if I interrupted something."

The older man rolled his eyes before wiping his face with his hands, a low whine sounding from his throat. "Carla, _please._"

The Latina's eyes abruptly hardened. "You are aware of what you two have gotten yourselves into, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes," Doctor Cox snarled. "We got the memo and the pamphlet, but we did fine without the demonstrative tape, I assure you."

JD was still blushing. _"Carla," _he groused, wrinkling his nose.

Carla laughed. "You two are so the epitome of horn baggy teenagers getting caught in the act right now," she teased. Doctor Cox looked ready to throttle her, and JD looked about ready to burst into tears.

"_Horn baggy--" _Doctor Cox stabbed the air with his index finger as he pointed it towards the door. "Get out!"

Carla couldn't help it. She burst into a fit of giggles, clutching her sides.

"I think that added to the whole teenager epitome, Doctor Cox," JD couldn't help but point out forlornly.

"Oh God," Carla shrieked with laughter, doubling over.

"If we're lucky, she might just explode," the older man muttered under his breath. "I'm going to hit the shower, then."

Carla sobered then. _"No!"_ At their surprised looks, she said hurriedly, "Something happened in the sewage system. They haven't revealed much but they're urging everyone to stay away from the tap."

Doctor Cox raised an eyebrow. "This might be the reason you came knocking down the door?"

She gave an urgent nod. "Oh, and there's a food shortage, too… A lot of the remaining food supply in this part of town went bad due to the power outage. Some places don't even have electricity yet."

"What's going to happen?" JD asked softly.

"I'm not really sure," Carla replied with a shake of her head. "There's been talk about some army officials coming to one of the rest stops with rations. If that's really the case, we're going to have to head over to the designated spot ourselves."

"That sounds potentially troublesome," Doctor Cox remarked.

Carla crossed her arms to her chest and smirked. "You guys want to borrow some of Izzy's baby wipes?"

The older man's nostrils flared as he pointed to the door again. _"Out."_

Carla made her way to the door, still smirking insufferably. "Alright, alright." She pointed a finger at them. "But nothing gets past Carla!" she said warningly before slipping out of the room.

JD groaned, falling back onto the pillows and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Doctor Cox smirked as he plucked his shirt from the floor and tugged it on. "Still sore, Julia?"

"I don't know. I'm trying not to move," the younger man muttered, his hands never leaving his face.

He stared at him, snorting. His eyes grew wide. "Christ, Amelia, are you _blushing?"_

JD removed one hand from his face to tug the blankets over his head in answer.

The older man snorted again and left the room.

* * *

"_Hey, little brother,"_ Dan's voice came in on the other line. His voice was shaking. _"How you hanging in there?"_

"It's been all kinds of crazy," JD muttered, staring up at the suite ceiling from where he lay on the couch. "We had a power outage the other day and a lot of the food got bad."

"_Mom's been trying to call you all week,"_ he said. _"Apparently the lines are all tied up. The first time we got through was earlier this morning, but you didn't answer."_

The younger Dorian flushed. "Uh, sorry about that. I left my phone in Carla's room."

"_So you're pretty much shackin' up with everybody?"_

"Yeah," JD chuckled. "I don't think we've gotten sick of each other yet. Work pretty much makes sure of that."

"_Hey, hold on. Mom wants to talk to you."_ JD heard Dan hand the phone off to Barbara.

"_Jonathan? Baby? Are you okay?"_

JD felt his face break. "Yeah, Mom. I'm okay," he said softly.

"_I was so worried about you! The lines were all tied up. Is there a vaccine yet? Oh, darling, I hate that you're so close to that virus working at the hospital! Can't you go on medical leave or something?"_

"I can't. The CDC sort of reined me in," JD sighed. At the sound of protest Barbara made, he said, "They need all the help they can get."

"_Oh, honey. I just want you to be safe,"_ his mother sighed, her voice sounding strained.

"I know, Mom. We're all being as careful as we possibly can. They already distributed face masks that have tiny breathing holes so the virus doesn't get in. And every time I go to work, they suit me up." He sighed dreamily. "Like an astronaut!"

Barbara snorted on the other line. _"You better not be daydreaming while you're at work, Jonathan! Your brother and I worry enough about you over here as it is. I'm too old for this."_

JD laughed. "I'm sorry, Ma."

"_I love you, John."_

He smiled sadly. "Love you, too."

"_Take some time out of your busy schedule to call us, okay? It'd be nice to know you're alive and well."_

"I will." JD hung up after they exchanged farewells, closing his eyes and letting himself feel the couch cushions supporting him. It made him feel a little more grounded, but not by much. He opened his eyes when Turk sat down by his feet.

"Hey, man," Turk said.

JD looked at him. "Hey."

His best friend nodded at the phone. "Was that your mom?"

"Yeah. Apparently she and Dan have been trying to reach me, but the lines have all been tied up."

"They're probably being used by the feds or something," Turk said, leaning back into the cushions as JD moved his feet. "I was watching the news earlier. They said they're going to be distributing rations the entire weekend."

JD sat up. "How's that gonna go?"

"They're doing it by household. You gotta bring everyone's SS cards. I think they're only giving out like two weeks' worth of non-perishable food. I don't know what else is going to be in there." He paused. "I left my social security card and birth certificate at the apartment. You wanna go with me?"

"Yeah. I need to stop at my apartment, too. I'm sure my mailbox is overflowing by now."

"Yeah… We never really thought about that stuff, huh? We were so concerned about getting everybody together." He bit his lip. "Mr. Thomas' wife called Carla the other day. She said that he went missing three days ago."

JD's eyes widened. "Wait… The landlord?"

He gave a solemn nod, lowering his gaze to the coffee table. He nudged JD gently. "We should get going."

"We should see if anyone else needs to stop by their places," JD said.

"Keith and Elliot just left for the hospital. Elliot gets out earlier but she said she'd wait on Keith if he needed to get anything from his place." Turk nodded towards the door. "How about Doctor Cox?"

"We could ask him," JD murmured softly. "Where's Carla?"

"Izzy just finished her lunch, so she's putting her down for a nap. I've got a list of everything she wants me to get, and there's some stuff that she wants me to check over."

"Man, it'd be great if we could get a shower sometime soon…" JD muttered as they got off the couch and headed for the door. He cringed, still feeling grimy even after Carla'd let him use some of Izzy's baby wipes.

Turk made a face. "Apparently some of the rats found their way to the reservoirs and they have some people testing the water now. They don't know how that's going to turn out if it happens to be infected. Some of the army dudes they sent there got bit, too. There hasn't really been any word on that."

They were walking down the hall when Doctor Cox was just leaving his room.

"Hey, great timing," Turk called out. "We were wondering if you needed to pick anything up from your place, 'cause we're stopping by ours for a while."

The older man shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

They walked quietly towards the elevators and down to the parking lot. They decided to use JD's sedan because it had more trunk room than the Turks' Mini Cooper. Turk updated Doctor Cox on the plan for the rations while JD drove.

JD decided to bring down his PS2 and a handful of games, and Turk tossed in some of the games he'd borrowed from JD as well as his Game Cube and all the necessities Carla'd asked for. Doctor Cox came down with his fireproof safe box with all of his, Jack's, and Jordan's legal paperwork. He brought down one armful of his liquor as well, and a couple of medical textbooks. And all three of them picked up enough mail to fit inside a postman's satchel.

"We should probably pick up the rations together tomorrow, that way we all know how to go about it if we decide to take turns," JD suggested on their way back to the hotel. "Our shifts could coincide with the designated pick up dates or something."

"Sounds like a good plan," Doctor Cox commented. He snorted as JD beamed at his approval.

They returned back to the hotel, each man retreating back to their rooms to put down their belongings. JD took the time to tuck his clothes and belongings away into the empty dresser drawers, sort through his mail, write out a few checks for the utility bills at home, and put those numbers down in his ledger. He shook his head the entire time he did it, because for nearly a week now, that apartment housed nothing but perhaps the dead skin cells he left behind.

He took a nap before his shift. He'd probably need to stock up on melatonin supplements because his shifts with the CDC were completely different from his usual shifts overseen by Doctor Kelso and the board. He worked with Doctor Coleman during nights, and since Kelso knew whose priorities were important for the time being, he was mostly on call or working eight hour daytime shifts, sometimes directly after he clocked out with the CDC.

JD's shift was like that tonight, and then he and the gang would drive out to whatever closed off junction of Sacramento was designated for ration distribution afterward, so he wouldn't get much rest until later on.

JD drove in to work with Turk and Doctor Cox. It seemed the three of them worked parallel to one another, parallel meaning that he never got to see them at all until each of their shifts ended. JD seemed to have it easier than the two; Turk was elbow deep in infected bodies for most of his shift, and Doctor Cox had to ride around in a van and visit the houses of patients who'd been quarantined to their homes.

JD was only assigned to one floor, where he watched over patients being held in clean rooms. When he wasn't in the clean rooms, he was doing copious amounts of paperwork. There were times when he'd had to do double the paperwork than normal considering he had his regular patients with Sacred Heart, and he'd find the scrawl written in the charts running and blurring together and he'd had to squeeze his eyes shut to correct his vision. His weariness only added to his frustration.

JD entered the fourth floor lounge, which had been temporarily given to CDC staff members. He absentmindedly poured himself some coffee into a too-thin paper cup; the hot liquid seared his fingers as he wrapped them around it. JD grimaced in distaste. He imagined that the taste of coffee was probably correlated to how much work was done -- or sometimes how much _wasn't_ -- in the workplace. And this coffee tasted terrible, so that probably meant that people were too busy trying to save lives to even consider bringing in quality coffee. The CDC had money, and so did Sacred Heart, so that wasn't a plausible excuse at all.

He drained the cup and tossed it in the bin waiting beside the counter, as if it expected the poor doctors to -- based on necessity rather than for enjoyment -- finish their horrible cups of coffee within seconds of pouring it.

Work was slow for JD. Rose Chen's organs were failing, and it wasn't hard to imagine that the virus had turned the inside of her body into its own personal landfill. At one point, Franklyn had come into the observation area and requested some blood cultures. JD and Doctor Coleman got right on it, and JD found some incredulity in how much security was placed in such an action: they'd drawn blood and put them in the regular vacutainer tubes, and then Doctor Coleman had put them in a fire-resistant, waterproof biohazard box which went through a window connecting the observation area and Rose Chen's room together, like a drive-thru window, JD thought.

JD closed the window and watched as Franklyn slipped the nozzle of the garden hose into the enclosed area, spraying the biohazard box with the sterilizing solution kept in the small tank in the observation room.

The attending was just entering the lounge to sign out -- the CDC didn't pay you for the time that it took to have lunch -- when Franklyn and Doug entered behind him.

"Hey, JD," Franklyn said cautiously, and JD glanced up from the pad of paper in front him.

"Yeah?"

"You wanna see something creepy?" Doug asked.

JD shot them a pointed look. They all worked with a highly virulent contaminant -- what could be more creepy than that? But still, he couldn't help the "Sure, what is it?" from tumbling from his lips.

Franklyn nodded his head at him. "Come into the old observation room and suit up."

JD nearly huffed. He practically lived in those detestable suits and they wanted him to suit up again? But still, his curiosity overrode everything else, and he did as he was told. He, Franklyn, and Doug took turns looking over one another's suits for rips or tears before they entered the old OR, which was now serving as a lab. The CDC had put some new equipment in, new equipment that looked both fragile and expensive.

Franklyn came up to the counter, where a microscope sat. He turned on the small light bulb just below the stage before kneeling down and unlocking the mini-fridge just underneath the counter. From it he took a rack of sealed tight vacutainer tubes. JD watched as Franklyn busied himself, retrieving three micro pipettes, three glass slides, a container of plastic cover slips, and a paper towel roll from various parts of the room. Franklyn then set up and plugged in two more microscopes and flicked on their light bulbs before lining up the three slides. One by one, he opened each vacutainer tube and used individual micro pipettes to deposit drops of blood onto each glass slide.

He then covered each drop of blood with a plastic cover strip. The three of them watched as the blood spread to all four corners of the square, only to be trapped by the plastic.

Franklyn stepped back in invitation. "Look at these," he said.

JD frowned. "What am I looking at?"

Franklyn pointed to the last microscope. "I want you to look at this first, because it's new. You only really have less than three minutes to observe what's happening under there."

Doug looked first. JD watched Doug's Adam's apple bob up and down nervously before he quickly stepped away.

"What is this?" JD asked again, his eyes pressed to the binocular microscope.

"That's Virus T9763 attacking uncontaminated blood," Franklyn said, his voice wavering.

JD's eyes widened as he finally trained his eye on the splotchy red picture on the slide. Round blood cells were thrumming, almost shivering as the long, wormlike virus wriggled through them. JD shuddered as he watched one particular blood cell surrender to it, seeming to implode on itself and become a dark splotch on the slide. Inside the splotch was the wriggling virus strain, and it seemed to be…

"Dude, is that virus strain making copies of itself already?" JD squeaked.

Franklyn nodded, and then cleared his throat in embarrassment when he realized JD couldn't see him. "Yeah."

JD stepped away from the microscope to glance over at the other two. "And what are those?"

"The first microscope is uncontaminated blood. The second is Rose Chen's blood cultures."

JD wandered over to the first one, peering into the eyepiece. It was a relief to see such clean, normal blood.

And then he peered into Rose Chen's blood culture, and the moment he did, he froze.

Not one normal blood cell. The entire sample was polluted with dark red splotches that were thrumming with virus strains; it was almost like looking at a pot of pasta smothered with infested meat sauce, JD thought.

"Dude," Doug whimpered, wringing his hands.

It took the last of JD's energy not to throw up in his suit.

* * *

By the time both of JD's shifts were over, he felt sluggish and grimy. He still hadn't had the chance to shower, and was feeling particularly disgusting about it.

"Can I catch a shower someplace?" JD asked Doctor Coleman.

Coleman chuckled and shook his head. "You could boil some water and bathe in it, but you'll probably have to wait a while before it even turns lukewarm."

JD wrinkled his nose. He didn't have time for that at the moment.

He found Carla and stole some more wipies from her, and then went into the bathroom to wipe himself clean. By the time he was finished, all his hotel mates were gathered out in the lobby, looking as tired and probably as grimy as he felt. Well… probably not as grimy, with the exception of Doctor Cox. He flushed at the thought.

They decided to split up into three cars, considering they didn't know how big the rations were. Turk, Izzy, and Carla were in their Mini Cooper, Elliot and Keith in Elliot's car, and JD and a grudging Doctor Cox in JD's sedan.

They drove clean through the local area with Turk leading and JD bringing up the rear, but as soon as they pulled out onto the freeway, all they could see were cars for miles and miles, the sun's rays glinting off of their metal bodies.

"Christ," Doctor Cox groaned, "with the way things look, this is going to take _all weekend_."

* * *

TBC...

A/N: Sorry for the wait! How am I doing? I'd love to know your thoughts on this whole thing.


	14. A Change of Plans

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: A Change of Plans

Doctor Cox heard JD's sharp exhalation of breath as they finally managed to pull onto the freeway from the accelerating lane. The entire strip of road was on gridlock, and the entire strip of shoulder was crowded with police vehicles. Unfortunately, they'd lost track of the rest of the gang as police officers were directing civilian vehicles singularly, but at least they were all heading towards the same place.

The same place being a rest stop that was about five miles away. And five miles was a long way when there was five miles worth of bumper to bumper traffic sitting on the asphalt and going less than five miles per hour. The tight security didn't help much in the time department either, and there'd probably be even tighter security at the designated rest stop.

After ten minutes of sitting idly, JD put the sedan into park.

"I have an uncle in the police force," JD said after some time. When it looked like Doctor Cox would interrupt, he said quickly, "During our reunions, he used to tell us how hard it was when a case went cold. He said that every time they'd be given a new case, he had this irrational hope that it'd be connected to one of his previous cases somehow. That somehow all the clues would pop up at the same time and make everything easier. Of course, that's all just wishful thinking…" He shook his head and chuckled. "I kind of know how he feels now, working with this strain…"

Doctor Cox gave an absentminded nod. "Speaking of clues, we found out another symptom today."

The younger man glanced at him. "Yeah?" he murmured.

He nodded wearily. "Looks bleak. Slow moving respiratory arrest. This one patient's wife kept complaining that he was constantly going to the crapper. The patient was complaining of difficulty breathing. He slipped into a coma sometime after."

JD's eyes widened. "Difficulty breathing… If the virus got to his lungs, that means that there wasn't enough oxygen circulating through his organs. No wonder he was using the bathroom so often -- all his organs were probably shutting down and going lax."

"Exactly," Doctor Cox said with an enthusiastic nod. "Stool samples presented with blood, as did his sputum."

JD put the car into drive when the vehicle in front of him moved up about two feet. He put it into park again before wiping his face with his hands, leaning back against the headrest. He jumped as he heard a car horn sound alongside them, and turned his head towards his window to see the Turks' Mini Cooper pull up. JD grinned and rolled down his window.

"Hey man, thought I lost you," JD said as soon as Carla rolled down hers.

"How are you guys doing in there, Bambi?" Carla asked, giving the two a look that Turk was unable to see.

JD blushed and Doctor Cox scowled.

"Elliot's like two cars behind me," Turk said. "I called Doctor Wen and he said he's been on this road for like two hours. But he's up there by some security checkpoint. That whole checkpoint partitions half of this highway, and I guess beyond that is where they're doing the ration distribution."

"Christ," Doctor Cox groaned. "By the time we get our rations, I wouldn't be surprised if we start fighting the temptation to eat it all."

"It is a rest stop," Carla said with a shrug. "Hopefully they'll have some food over there," she wrinkled her nose, "and hopefully none of that MRE crap."

"Can't be picky when you're starving," JD remarked, drumming his fingers on the top of his steering wheel. "God, I'm exhausted. Maybe we should've done this a little bit after our shifts."

"Why don't we switch up after?" Turk suggested, touching his wife on the shoulder. "This might take a little while. Our co-pilots could catch some z's."

"That works," JD said with a yawn.

"I'll call Elliot and see how she's doing," Carla said, digging through her bag for her cell phone.

About three hundred feet behind the Turks' Mini Cooper, Elliot shrilly answered her cell phone. Carla winced.

"_Frick, I really have to pee and this is the worst idea ever and practically all of Sacramento is going to be on this freeway and what if something happens? We can't run from a fast-moving virus at two miles per hour, Carla!"_

"Well, I _was _going to ask you how you were doing…" Carla drawled with a roll of her eyes. "Elliot! Don't worry about anything. They've got the entire freeway lined up with police vehicles. I'm sure they have a plan for that sort of thing."

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed across the freeway, shaking vehicles and its passengers.

"Gee, Carla, you really know how to speak too soon," Doctor Cox sniped, unstrapping his seat belt and getting out of the car.

Around them, several other passengers in their vehicles followed suit. Carla closed her car door, using her open window as leverage as she hitched herself up onto the top of the roof. She hissed as her knees rubbed and scraped against warm metal, but it did not stop her from getting to her feet, her hand hovering over her eyes as she blocked them against the glare of the sun.

A few miles up ahead, she saw smoke billowing towards the blue, cloudless sky.

JD turned on the radio and switched it onto AM, searching for a news station.

"…_KTKZ 1380 AM. With us today is Officer Mike Randall who is overseeing the ration distribution out on Interstate 5. We are live, about three thousand feet away from the site. A green 1983 Toyota Camry pulled up to the security checkpoint not even one minute ago. The officer on duty was doing standard rounds on the vehicle and opened the trunk, which exploded seconds after. Police officials believe it to have been an IED, as several pieces of shrapnel had blown outwards after the explosion. Several people have been hurt and the officer on duty was instantly killed, as were the passengers in the car. Officer Randall, this is terrible! What in the world is going to be done now?"_

"_Paramedic 'copters have been called and will be on the scene as fast as they can manage. Ration distribution will not be canceled, however, this will delay things quite a bit. We're going to open up two other lanes a few feet up past the security checkpoint once the site has been cleaned up -- one will head towards the rest stop, and the other, a detour back into the city. We've got two fire engines and several rescue vehicles parked right up here for just this occasion, as we were expecting almost anything at this point. It's very sad that people have the nerve to do this under already stressful conditions…"_

"Jesus Christ," JD whimpered breathily, exhaling through his nose.

"Save the nervous breakdown for later, Lucinda, please," Doctor Cox growled.

JD shakily unlocked his door and stumbled out of the car, a surreal feeling overtaking him as he watched people come out of their cars and scatter, gazing at the billowing cloud of smoke a few miles ahead. The din of muttered worries and panicked cries and the sound of car doors opening and closing seemed far away to JD's ears.

Another boom, louder and perhaps closer, rang through the stretch of road. Startled screams followed.

"What the fuck is going on?" Doctor Cox snarled.

"Save the nervous breakdown for later, _Perry_," JD snapped, his weariness and his fright making him testy and irritable.

Doctor Cox merely growled and darted out over towards the shoulder, where several police vehicles were sitting idly. The officers, however, were outside, their eyes trained on the twin clouds of smoke several feet away, talking in low voices amongst themselves and into their two-way scanners.

"This place is gonna get crazy in a minute," Doctor Cox said to the nearest officer -- a man with very white, straight hair and a metallic black nametag on his breast that said _'Officer Nevin Pierce.'_ "What do we do?" he demanded.

"Sit tight like the rest of us," Pierce scowled as he moved his police radio away from his mouth.

"I'm with a bunch of annoying people who happen to be competent doctors, if need be," Doctor Cox said wearily, jabbing his thumb behind him.

The scowl on Officer Pierce's face eased just slightly, and he nodded, a tired look in his eyes. "Noted, and appreciated," he sighed.

Doctor Cox ambled back over to their vehicles. Elliot and Keith had abandoned their car and were standing by JD's sedan, Elliot babbling shrilly and flailing her arms about.

"Get anything out of them?" Turk asked.

"Nothing yet. They'll keep us updated, though, 'cause they'll probably need assistance up there sometime soon."

Twenty minutes of tense silence passed, aside from the low chattering of the radio from JD's car, and random hollers of instruction from the police or the bellows and cries from shaken civilians. Pierce and another officer walked towards their cars, nodding at Doctor Cox.

"Mass casualty triage up there," the man beside Pierce told them. "They could do with some help. Paramedic 'copters are hovering until someone authorizes them a landing spot."

JD, Doctor Cox, Turk, and Keith left with both officers, cramping into the back of a police-owned SUV. Pierce put on the lights and sirens and weaved through police activity on the shoulder, moving closer and closer to the fading, gray billows of smoke.

It was about a thousand feet up from the security checkpoint did they begin to see several glassless car bodies, the shards all scattered in thousands of tiny shimmering, blue-tinged pieces on the asphalt. Pierce stopped the car and the four men seated in the backseat all flooded out, checking the vehicles for injured people. EMS techs trailed after them with first aid kits, neck braces, and body boards. Those injured were either carried off or directed to two large mass casualty trucks parked a little past the security checkpoint where EMS techs, paramedics, and some first responders with first aid and CPR training looked over victims donning a spectrum of wounds. A man was distributing triage tags to recumbent victims.

A strong breeze picked up, and the sound of swiping rotor blades filled the air.

"I feel like I'm in MASH," JD muttered under his breath as he followed Doctor Cox to the helicopter.

"Are you two doctors?" a man in the cabin hollered over the whirring noise. JD and Doctor Cox nodded. "In!" he yelled, waving a hand at them urgently.

Without another thought, JD and Doctor Cox scrambled into the aircraft's cramped cabin.

"Where are we going?" JD yelled.

The man didn't answer.

The helicopter took flight, away from the scene.

"Where are we going?" Doctor Cox reiterated tersely.

The man, heavyset and with a scruffy three-inch beard grinned and said, "Docs, you should know better than to enter unmarked vehicles."

* * *

A/N: I am sorry for the lack of updates. I haven't been very motivated lately.


	15. Separated

Disclaimer: I still own a butt load of nothing.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Separated

"Baby, have you seen JD?"

Carla frowned at her husband as she slid into the driver's seat. "I thought he was with you and Keith."

"Actually, he was with Doctor Cox," Turk said. "I can't find either of them." A curious look came over his wife's features that made him wonder if she knew anything that he didn't, but then again, she_ was_ Carla. "Baby?" he reiterated, his voice an octave higher with worry.

"I haven't seen them, Turk," she replied, starting the car. She turned her head to him. "Maybe you should stay in JD's sedan until he shows up."

Turk shook his head. "It's locked up, and I think he took the key with him."

Carla leaned back into the seat and gazed distantly out the windshield. "Where could they be?" she murmured, her eyebrows raised and her forehead creasing.

"Last I saw them, they were in triage in one of the mass casualty trucks. But after that, no sign of them."

"Maybe they hitched a ride to the hospital?" Carla wondered aloud.

"And leave the car here?" Turk said, ruling out that possibility. "We're on gridlock, and the traffic could move any time. I don't think he'd leave his car out here." He shook his head, unlocking the door. "I'm going to talk to one of the officers over there, see if they've seen them."

Carla nodded, and Turk got out of the car, approaching one of the SUV's parked on the shoulder. He recognized one police officer as the one Doctor Cox had been speaking to previously.

"You're one of the doctors that helped out a couple of hours ago," Pierce said in recognition, pointing a finger to him.

"Yeah," Turk said with a nod. "Chris Turk. I was wondering, have you seen the guy that first talked to you? He and another friend've gone missing since we set out for the scene."

The officer shook his head. "I haven't seen them since. We'll make sure to keep an eye out for them, though. You'd best give me a number I could reach you at, just in case."

Turk nodded, giving the man his pager and cell phone number before jogging back towards the car, first circling around JD's sedan to have another look before climbing back into the passenger's side of the Mini Cooper. Carla was cradling a hiccuping Izzy to her chest. She glanced up at him expectantly.

Turk shook his head. "He hasn't seen them either."

"What are we going to do about the sedan?"

"If they don't show up soon, we're gonna have to get it towed somehow." Turk said with a sigh. He sank lower into his chair, a faraway look in his eyes. "They should be okay. They _have _to be."

* * *

"Sit tight or else I break out the chloroform."

Luckily, JD was too much in shock to do much more than that.

Unfortunately, Doctor Cox didn't feel the same way.

"Where the _fuck_ are you taking us?" the other doctor growled, nervously eying the window as they got further and further away from the ground.

The man sighed. "If you must know…" He shook his head before drawling out, "Ensenada."

"Mexico? You're fucking kidding me."

"Is the swearing really necessary?" he demanded with a flustered noise. "Listen, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner this'll be over."

"Who are you? What do you need our fucking cooperation for?" Doctor Cox snapped.

The man glanced over at him with a lethargic gaze. "You can call me Geoffrey. And I will cover all bases as soon as we land." He looked at JD, who was silently staring out the window with wide, glazed eyes. "Jump out if you want. You're expendable. All I have to do is plop down right in the middle of that mess and unsuspecting doctors like yourselves will be crawling into this cabin in no time." He beamed.

"Are you responsible for that catastrophe down there?" the older doctor demanded.

Geoffrey shrugged. "It was organized by me, yes."

Doctor Cox narrowed his eyes at their captor. "So you're behind it all?" He leaned forward. "Let's say you accidentally die," he remarked with cynical grin. "Will whatever organization you play puppet master for fall apart at the seams?"

"May I remind you that I have the chloroform?" Geoffrey said with an eye roll. "Also, should anything happen to me, my pilot here has been ordered to terminate the flight to protect what information gets into your little doctor-y heads."

"Terminate?" JD squeaked, drawing the attention of both men.

"Terminate," Geoffrey repeated. He grinned. "And self-terminate." He kept his eyes trained on JD before he looked over at Doctor Cox. "So, do you know one another or are introductions in order? Although, to be honest, I could care less. I could just address you by Thing One and Thing Two and it'd be fine by me."

JD glanced at Doctor Cox with an incredulous look. "He has worse bedside manner than you."

The rest of the flight continued on in a tense, uncomfortable silence. It was a little over two hours later when JD glanced out the window to see dark waters that lapped at equally dark sandbars. A little west of the beach was a floating dock surrounded by small, private boats that bobbed up and down in the undulating current.

The helicopter circled the city before lowering upon the rooftop of a sun-bleached, five-story building. The building was long, taking up an entire city block, and overlooked the bay JD had seen when they'd approached the area.

"Welcome to Ensenada, Baja California," Geoffrey said with a grin. "The building we're on top of currently is Corona Hotel, where we will not be staying, unfortunately."

"Staying?" JD asked, sounding panicked. "How long will we be here for?"

"For an indeterminate amount of time, Thing Two," Geoffrey said. He pursed his lips.

"Hey! Why am I Thing Two?" JD sputtered.

Geoffrey rolled his eyes. "We'll alternate names on different days. Fine?"

JD shot Doctor Cox a look as the older man elbowed him none too gently.

Geoffrey led them to the staircase, where they made their way five flights down to a carpeted corridor leading into the lobby. They exited the double doors where a pony and a white, albeit dirtied carriage awaited them.

At the two doctors' incredulous stares, Geoffrey explained, "We're merely tourists here, mi amigos."

JD sat back into the red plush chair as the pony began to move, silently watching the late afternoon sun -- large and red -- as it began its slow descent into the horizon. The warm air was getting damp, a few cool breezes sweeping past them as they made their way deeper into Ensenada.

There were no traffic lights, and JD found his stomach tightening with anxiety every time they crossed a busy intersection. There were stop signs at every crossroad, but drivers hardly gave them a glance. The pony had eye shields on its halter, so it could not see the dangers that lurked in its peripheral vision.

Ensenada was mostly a tourist town. Past the highways were city blocks lined up with gift shops, bars, restaurants, as well as vendors selling all different kinds of things, like fruits, vegetables, raw shellfish, and ice cold beer. Young children in dirty clothes and dusty legs called out to the carriage as they passed, advertising the small packages of bubblegum that they clutched in their small, brown hands.

The driver navigated his pony across the street, and then they crossed another, until they left the bright, festive lights of the tourist area to more residential streets. The ground was always covered in a sheen of dust -- even the asphalt.

Finally, they stopped in front of a facility with dirty stucco walls and a black door, and black decorative shutters on barred windows.

"What is this place?" JD asked in awe.

"It used to be a home and rehabilitation center for old folks," Geoffrey said as he hopped out of the carriage, handing the driver American currency.

"What is it now?" Doctor Cox asked, narrowing his eyes.

Geoffrey had a grim look on his face. "You'll see." He smiled courteously at their driver and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, young man."

They watched the carriage go, and then Geoffrey turned around and went to the door, turning the brass knob and pushing it open.

"Hi there, Geoff," a young, dark man said at the reception desk, giving him a warm smile. His smile fell a little as JD and Doctor Cox trailed in behind him. "Who are these folks?" he asked, his Spanish accent evident.

"They're doctors," the heavyset man said, a slight smile on his lips.

The young man's eyes widened. _"Oh."_

JD and Doctor Cox frowned, glancing at one another before shooting Geoffrey a quizzical look.

"You said this place used to be a home, right?" JD said. "Why are there bars on the windows? It isn't a jail now, is it?"

Geoffrey chuckled. "You'll see. Come with me."

JD and Doctor Cox followed after the other man, the old hardwood floors creaking beneath their feet. Beyond the front desk was a corridor that led to another black door, though this was made of heavy steel instead of wood. Geoffrey pushed it open with some effort. Beyond the door was another corridor with flickering fluorescent lights and mottled tile floors. The walls were lined with numerous heavy steel doors, and JD and Doctor Cox could hear soft murmurings coming from those closed off rooms.

Geoffrey made a left turn. The hallway was wide enough that they could walk beside one another with comfortable space in between. They stopped at a random door, and JD and Doctor Cox noticed that there was a large metal hatch on it, as well as on every other door.

Geoffrey placed his hand on the handle. "What you're going to see might be a little startling to you," he said in a low voice.

"What's behind there?" JD asked.

"A bulletproof glass, and beyond that, a set of bars," Geoffrey said. "The bars are lined with barbed wire."

Doctor Cox stared at him, hard. _"Why?"_

"You'll see."

"Will you cut the vagueness, _please?"_

Geoffrey smirked a little. "As you wish," he said, and swiftly pulled open the hatch. And there was the bulletproof glass window, just like he'd said. And beyond that, thick metal bars lined with barbed wire. And beyond that…

JD threw himself backwards, startled. "What the fuck?!"

Dozens of red-rimmed eyes stared back at them from several gray-colored faces, the late afternoon light against their backs giving them an eerie, ethereal glow. The people -- if they could be called that -- that resided in that room had gray-colored skin, too dark to be called pallid, and their arms and faces and every spot of skin visible to the eye resembled rotten, deteriorating meat.

"What the fuck is going on here, Geoffrey?" Doctor Cox snarled, pointing a finger angrily at the window. He jumped as the gray crowd startled at the gesture, their red eyes widening and their arms lethargically reaching out and beyond the metal bars, scraping their skin against the barbed wire. Their gray epidermises peeled back, revealing pink, raw skin underneath. However, they did not bleed.

"You've seen this before, I'm afraid," the man sighed.

"Care to refresh my memory? Because I have never seen anything like that in my entire life!"

Geoffrey sighed again. "Virus T9763."

The two doctors stared at him incredulously.

"_What?"_ Doctor Cox asked shrilly.

"The advanced stages," Geoffrey said, tilting his chin towards the window, where beyond it, the afflicted crowd continued to shuffle about in quiet pandemonium.

"I don't understand!" JD cried out. "How…? Why-- How come we've never seen this?"

"Military action, commonly known as USAMRIID," Geoffrey drawled, sounding tired. "You've heard about the virus spreading on the news, and hell, as doctors, probably seen it, right before your very eyes! But you have not even scraped the surface, my friends. Military action declares that you must stop the virus -- _kill the patient _-- before it approaches its advanced stages, so of course you've never seen it before."

"We don't kill the patient," JD said shakily. "Th-they bleed out! We don't kill the pat--"

"Do you know what happens after they bleed out, son?" Geoffrey said gently, placing a steadying hand on the younger doctor's arm. When JD quickly shook his head, distressed, the heavyset man pointed to the room. "That happens. Not shortly after. It takes a couple of hours, but the virus begins to set in. I know, when you first see those virus strains in the blood cells, it looks as if they've set in already. But what it's really doing is pushing out superfluous blood cells and making room for itself. When it finally contaminates every cell, every organ, this is what it becomes… A walking, living, breathing virus. A vehicle."

Doctor Cox and JD's eyes grew wide.

"These aren't the people that they were once before," Geoffrey said grimly. "They might've been doctors, or lawyers, or city counselors, or hell, plain laymen, but once that virus sets in, they're nothing but empty shells. We don't know what it is. Autoimmune? Neurological? At this point, it doesn't even matter. The virus changes a person's genetic makeup so God damn quickly. And all it wants to do is spread. Thankfully, it only knows one way how, which is puzzling to me." He shook his head. "You'd think a powerful virus such as this one would have several intrusive ways of contaminating its victims, but it only has one. I guess that is its tragic flaw."

"Transmitted via bodily fluids," Doctor Cox said absentmindedly.

"Yes." Geoffrey nodded. "Invasive, via biting or consuming. Presumably even through sex. It seems that the strain count must be in the ten millions mark -- perhaps even ten billion -- which can be achieved through such ways."

Doctor Cox lifted his hand and pointed, again, albeit this time slowly. "So I'm guessing this doesn't go against _everything_ I learned in med school, right? I mean, literally, these guys are as dead as viruses, but--"

"Sir, this goes against everything I learned about human nature," Geoffrey said with a caustic laugh.

"So when can we go home?" JD asked despondently.

"After you find a cure for my daughter, Amy," Geoffrey said. "And… well, it's not my job or one of my priorities to take you home. So by the time this all is over, you'd better find a way to get yourself deported somehow."

* * *

TBC...


	16. Waiting

Chapter Fifteen: Waiting

* * *

"Deported," Doctor Cox snarled, his nostrils flaring. "And where the fuck would we go? You know Sacramento is on lockdown. I don't even know how you were granted permission to land on that freeway."

Geoffrey gave a genial smile. "It's called organized chaos, my friend." He closed the hatch on the door and stepped back. "Now, may I show you to your rooms?"

JD shifted his gaze onto the older doctor's features, fear and anxiety and weariness making his usually young-looking face look years older. Doctor Cox did not return the look, instead following the heavyset man as he toddled off towards the end of the hall. The flickering fluorescent lights accentuated the lines in Doctor Cox's perspiration-dampened face.

JD glanced back at the heavy metal door before trailing behind the two older men, clenching his fists and his jaw as he felt frustrated tears beginning to build, stinging his eyes and obstructing his vision.

Geoffrey led them to what looked like a normal hospital room. The white walls were cracked and the white tile floors were marred with scuff marks. The hospital bed mattresses were thin, covered in starchy white linens with flat pillows lying neatly at the head of the beds. A faded, floral patterned curtain separated the two.

"Get some rest," Geoffrey told them, taking brisk steps back towards the door. "Dinner will be ready for you in a couple of hours, as well as a change of clothes."

The door closed behind him with a hushed thud.

Doctor Cox turned around to stare mindlessly out the barred windows on the opposite side of the room. The frosted glass glowed a soft, reddish orange. Outside, the hot sun was setting.

JD felt his legs give out. The mattress springs groaned in protest under his weight.

He covered his face in his hands and let out a loud moan. He cried quietly, his soft sobs muted by his palms.

Doctor Cox took a seat on his own bed, hands on his knees, his eyes glistening and red-rimmed as he watched the younger man across the room. JD's shoulders shuddered as a gut-wrenching sob tore through him.

"JD, come here," Doctor Cox said after a long moment, his voice gravelly.

Without a word or even a glance, JD stumbled towards the other man's bed, huddling under Doctor Cox's offered arm. He cried harder as the older doctor wrapped it around his shaking shoulders, gripping the sheets between white knuckles and burying his face into the lapel of Doctor Cox's jacket.

"What are we going to do?" JD asked softly after he'd begun to calm down. He hiccupped, his red, splotchy face still pressed to Doctor Cox's shoulder.

"Hell if I know, JD," he whispered, flattening his palm against the younger man's back.

"This guy is mistaking us for miracle workers," JD sniffled, slowly raising his head from its place on Doctor Cox's shoulder. "We can't figure out a cure for this. Not with just the two of us."

The older man glanced at the door. "We might not be here alone," he said. "Besides, what's the probability of roping in more than two competent doctors in one go?"

JD shot him an amused look, swiping a hand across his face. "Apparently we're a dime a dozen."

Doctor Cox snorted. "You're hardly a competent doctor, Susan."

JD fell asleep shortly after, having depleted the last of his energy crying. Doctor Cox paced around the room and checked out the small closet a few feet away from the door. It held nothing of importance: just a few rolls of very thin toilet paper, packets of gauze and Betadine gel, towels, and two small bottles of hydrogen peroxide. He walked to the other side of the room, where the door to the restroom stood ajar. The older doctor stepped inside to find grimy porcelain and a stained tile floor. The cramped shower stall looked as though it hadn't seen a bottle of bleach and a sponge in years, and there were calcium deposits and rust around the drains in both the stall and the sink.

Doctor Cox curled his fingers around the edge of the bathroom mirror, his suspicions confirmed when he gave it a gentle tug: it was a medicine cabinet. It creaked loudly on its hinges as he opened the door. Inside, he found a bottle of penicillin of indeterminate age, a fairly new box of Tylenol, unopened packages of travel-sized toothpaste, a bulk package of toothbrushes, and a bottle of Mylanta. Beside the toilet bowl was a plunger and toilet brush -- both looked much more pristine than the toilet itself.

He darted back into the room upon hearing the door open. The young man from the reception desk was nudging the door closed with his shoulder, holding a large tray of food in the crook of his left arm. Under his right was what looked to be a small stack of folded laundry.

"Hi," he said awkwardly.

Doctor Cox just glared at him.

"Um, I'll just leave these here," the young man said, putting the tray of food on the bedside table, nearer to JD and as far away from Doctor Cox as he could get. He put the clothes at the foot of JD's bed. "I'll be delivering to you a new change of clothes each day, and collect your laundry in the morning."

He stepped out quickly, not bothering to wait for Doctor Cox's reply.

It was just as well, for he had none.

The curly haired doctor walked over to the bedside table, plucking the lids from the two dishes sitting on the navy blue plastic tray the young man had dropped off. He wrinkled his nose and made a noise of distaste. It was one thing to work in a hospital setting even after being kidnapped and held hostage, but to actually eat the food? The cafeteria food in Sacred Heart was fit for a king compared to this stuff.

Doctor Cox nudged JD awake. "Eat," he grunted as the younger man lifted his head to look at him.

"What is it?" JD asked.

He made a show of sniffing it. "I might be wrong -- and this is coming from a guy who never is -- but it could very well be turkey."

Quietly, as the sun went down, the two of them ate their meals.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Turk sighed, looking despondent.

"What?" Elliot asked breathily, her voice still in a dangerous pitch.

The surgeon sighed again and kicked one of the tires of JD's sedan. "Does anyone know how to hotwire a car?" He glanced around at every one of his friend's faces, frowning when Elliot began to nervously bite her lip. "Elliot?!" he shrieked.

"I, uh, my nana sort of taught me!" the blonde confessed. "I didn't want to, but then her son was threatening to take all the money in Mom's secret safe, and then we ended up taking one of Daddy's cars because Juan Pedro wanted to make a quick getaway. See, he wasn't being selfish or anything, he just wanted enough money to bribe border patrol because his sister in Mexico was getting married and they let me help because they liked my ass-kicking skills when they saw me beating up an apple thief!"

Carla shook her head in disbelief. "Elliot, I don't know whether to be proud, scared, or stupefied."

"Well, I haven't done it in a while…" she said, wringing her hands.

"I'm sure it's just like riding a bike," Keith said with a shrug.

"Or in our case, an ATV," Turk remarked, shaking his head. "I don't think we're going to be able to get in the car, anyway. The doors are locked."

"Oh," Elliot said.

He gave her a suspicious look. "You don't carry slim jims around with you, do you?"

"Unfortunately not," the blonde doctor said with a helpless shrug.

"Well, that went full circle, around the block, and absolutely nowhere!" Turk groused. He stomped off towards the police officers, trailing off, "I'll see if I can get a tow truck outta them…"

He did, after much griping and several phone calls on the police officers' part -- except for Officer Pierce, who was giving him a look that was both kindly and concerned.

"I don't see how far they could have gone," Pierce said pensively.

"That's what I'm talking about," Turk snapped, his voice breaking in frustration.

The officer looked at Turk's face. "You've checked the mass casualty truck? They might still be in triage."

The surgeon scratched his head. "I checked, double checked, and triple checked, man. Besides, I was there for triage. Everyone got shipped out to the trauma center."

"Were the doctors assisting you?" Pierce asked, frowning.

After a moment, Turk's eyes widened. "Now that I think about it, I don't remember seeing them during the whole transfer process…"

"It could be that they were carted off to another section, perhaps behind the security checkpoint? If you fail to contact them by the time you move beyond that line, call me. In the meantime, my partner and I will head on up there and check it out, okay?"

Turk nodded, sighing. His tense shoulders sagged in relief, though, at the prospect of having a plan. He returned to the Mini Cooper and found that Elliot and Keith had returned back to Elliot's car. Carla had transferred to the backseat to comfort a fussy Izzy.

"Hey, baby," Turk said wearily, getting in the backseat with them.

Carla gave her husband a wavering smile. "Hey, yourself." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "So… Any news?" Her voice was small, as if she already knew what was coming and was dreading it.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "That Officer Pierce is a nice dude, though. He's going to check with the guys at the security checkpoint to see if they've seen JD and Doctor Cox."

Carla carded her fingers through Izzy's hair, her eyes lowered. "It still seems pretty hopeless."

Turk gently petted his wife's hair, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "I know."

It was over an hour and a half later that traffic began to move. A tow truck rolled forward from the Sacramento exit behind them. Turk watched with weary eyes as the man attached the large hook to JD's sedan. The car went up on its hind wheels and then the truck was towing it away, cutting through traffic to reach the detour exit that was a few feet past the security checkpoint.

"Man, V-Bear isn't going to be happy about this," Turk said with a grimace. "He's still paying for windshield damage, and then he's going to have to pay for tow truck services, too?"

Carla looked at her husband sadly, placing her hand on top of his.

They transferred up front with Carla at the wheel, and trundled forward with the slow-moving traffic. Once they pulled into a booth at the security checkpoint, a police officer stepped up with a clipboard and a flashlight.

"Good afternoon, folks," she said with a tired smile. "I'm Officer Danielle. I just need you to fill this out. It's just proof that you came on up here today. We'll be able to identify you during each ration distribution after we submit your file." She turned on the flashlight. "Also, it's SOP that I search your car for items that might carry any sort of threat. I'm going to need you to kill your engine and stand outside during the process."

Turk and Carla got out of the car. Carla opened the back door and retrieved a sleeping Izzy from her car seat. As soon as they stepped back -- a clipboard and pen in Turk's hands -- the police officer made a thorough search of their vehicle. When she finished, she handed Turk a piece of paper that permitted them to enter past the checkpoint.

"Thanks for your time," she said with a nod.

Carla drove past the security checkpoint after being cleared by another police officer that was directing traffic. He pointed to a ramp to the right of them. She pulled right onto it, following a line of vehicles to the designated rest stop.

Another police officer directed traffic from there, having them stop the Mini Cooper in front of a building that housed an eating area and restrooms. Carla and Turk took turns using the bathrooms while going over the ration distribution checklist with one of the officers. Ration distributions were proportionate to how many people were in the household, and were given as such. For the Turks, they were given two weeks' worth of canned rations as well as toiletries and amenities fit for children Izzy's age. Turk attempted to call JD's cell phone and text Doctor Cox's pager during the entire process.

No answer came.

As soon as Carla pulled back onto the highway, a police SUV stopped them, its red and blue lights blinking and turning, reflecting off of the Mini Cooper's rearview mirror.

"Any sign of Doctors Cox and Dorian, Doctor Turk?" Officer Pierce said as he approached Turk's open window.

The surgeon shook his head. "You took the words right out of my mouth, man."

The officer nodded gravely. "I'm sorry."

Turk merely nodded, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. There was nothing left to say.

There was nothing left to do… but wait.

* * *

TBC...


	17. Outside And In

A/N: I'm sorry for the wait! I know this is quite short, but I've been working... I'm leaving for Maryland in a week and I'm not sure when I can update next, but I will try my best to push one out in the following weeks. Thanks so much for reading, guys. I apologize! I know it's been rather slow lately.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Outside And In

Doctor Cox opened his eyes, a humid and still darkness meeting his vision. He continued to stare into it unblinkingly until he began to make out the shapes and shadows of their — hopefully — temporary living quarters in the dark.

He frowned when he heard a soft whimper, and shot up to a sitting position when he realized there were only two possible sources where it could have come from, and it definitely hadn't been from him.

The floor was cold under his feet, and it reminded him of Californian mornings. He remembered his first days in California after a wearisome and turbulent move from Pittsburgh. He remembered that the mornings were so hard to get used to, because it had always been significantly colder in temperature than the rest of the day would be. During his first days as an intern at Sacred Heart, he would walk in donning one of his sweatshirts or windbreakers only to have no need for them if he decided to eat out for lunch. But by the time night fell, another layer of clothing wasn't a bad idea to have. He remembered waking up with a cold the following morning, his body aggravated by the sudden changes in temperature over the course of one day.

Doctor Cox frowned and shook his head of the unexpected reverie, following the sound of JD's soft whimpers. He sat at the edge of the younger man's bed, his heart slamming from his chest to his throat as JD suddenly clutched at his arm in startled surprise.

"Christ, JD, what the hell's wrong with you?" the older doctor hissed.

JD's eyes were wide and shone with fear in the soft moonlight. Doctor Cox sighed heavily, placing a hand over JD's. It still continued to clutch onto the older doctor's arm, cold and clammy, and Doctor Cox could feel him trembling.

"What's wrong?" Doctor Cox reiterated, much gentler this time.

The younger man released a shaky breath, his grip loosening just slightly. "Bad dream," he said breathily and shuddered, his eyes falling closed. "C-Can't breathe," he whispered, his breath hitching.

Doctor Cox raised a hand to the other man's face, feeling the damp and clammy skin of his cheek. His fingers trailed down his lower jaw before making a sweep of the slope of his neck, feeling the younger man's rapid pulse at his jugular.

"I think you're having a panic attack, JD," Doctor Cox said in realization, keeping his tone quiet and calm. "Just wait it out, okay? Wait it out and breathe."

"I-I can't," JD moaned as his breath hitched again. He began to pant heavily, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"You're hyperventilating," Doctor Cox said, placing a warm and heavy hand on the younger doctor's stomach, which was quickly rising and falling as JD attempted to use his accessory muscles to breathe. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly, there, Newbie. C'mon."

JD closed his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. He attempted to exhale it slowly, but it came out as a large burst of air. He moaned again in frustration, raising his hands to tangle them through his sweat-dampened hair.

Doctor Cox watched him in the dark, unsure of what to do. He'd never really had to deal with panic attacks with the exception of Barbie, whom he'd avoided like the plague anyhow — _especially_ when she was hyperventilating, and it was usually thanks to him.

Suddenly, Doctor Cox got an idea. "JD, talk to me," he said.

It wasn't his best idea, considering he always squashed down any opportunity JD had to talk to him in most cases, but hey, talking required breathing.

"_What?"_ JD panted, seemingly startled.

Doctor Cox shrugged. "Just talk."

JD sucked in another rickety breath. "A-About what?"

Doctor Cox could see that he was about ready to regret this. "Anything."

The younger man took another gulp of air. The action seemed too violent and clumsy. "A-Alright. I, um," he took another shuddering breath, "I never th-thought I would, b-but I miss snow."

Doctor Cox found himself absentmindedly petting JD's hair. He nodded, signaling for the younger man to continue.

"D-During my first year as an intern, m-my brother dropped in unexpectedly l-like he usually does, and me and Turk brought him to one of the s-ski resorts up north." JD expelled a shaky laugh. "D-Damn, falling on that snow hurt. It was fake. P-Pretty sure it was shaved ice."

The older doctor heard the younger man suck in another shaky breath. JD was silent for a moment. Doctor Cox had thought that he'd fallen asleep when he began to speak again.

"I-I dreamt that I was watching everyone undergoing the ch-change," he whispered with a shudder. "Turk was gone, Carla, y-you were… you were gone…"

Suddenly, their door slammed open, and the two of them shot up in startled surprise. JD let out a yelp.

Geoffrey stood in the doorway, the hallway light casting his shadow into the room. "You want to know why you're here?" he asked gravely.

"That would be helpful, yes," Doctor Cox snarled, getting to his feet.

Geoffrey beckoned them over with a wave of his hand. "Come." He walked away from the doorway, making his way down the corridor without a second glance.

Doctor Cox and JD followed after him silently, JD still looking pale and trembling slightly. The older doctor walked close behind him, a steadying hand pressed lightly to his shoulder.

As they made their way towards the front of the building, they heard a distant, yet familiar sound: rotor blades cutting the cold night air.

"Helicopters," JD murmured as they reached the metal door leading into the reception room.

"Correct," Geoffrey said, leading them to a staircase just adjacent to the front door.

They made their way up two flights of stairs only to come to a heavy metal door that led to the rooftop. Geoffrey opened the door, gusts of wind greeting them as they made their way outside. Three helicopters were hovering over the rooftop, all of them carrying what appeared to be large barred cages via chains and intricately attached hooks.

"You ever wonder what becomes of the bodies that have bled out?" Geoffrey hollered over the noise.

"I get the feeling that we'll wonder no more," Doctor Cox said, shielding his eyes against the glare of the floodlights attached to one of the helicopters.

The three cages were carefully lowered onto the rooftop floor, and it was only until they touched the ground did JD and Doctor Cox realize how big they really were. JD recalled having seen bears at the San Francisco zoo in cages half the size of these.

Inside the first metal cage were nearly one hundred people — victims of Virus T9763 — gray and sickly-looking, staring lethargically out at them. JD shuddered under their glassy gazes, taking an involuntary step back.

The second cage was filled with what looked to be normal cattle, but one look into their faces told them that they were infected. The animals' eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and mucous dribbled from their nostrils and their mouths.

Doctor Cox looked at the third cage and frowned. It appeared to be empty.

JD looked at the heavyset man. "Geoffrey, what's—"

"That cage is for us," Geoffrey said softly.

"_What?"_ both doctors demanded.

"If anything happens to us, we must be contained as they are. You must understand how dispensable we are."

JD and Doctor Cox watched in silent horror as two men from each helicopter cabin made their way down from their aircrafts via static rope made of a strong polyester and nylon blend. They unhooked the cages from the aircraft, allowing the helicopters to retreat back into the air and fly northeast.

The cages were strategically placed in front of three large, slanted doors built into the floor. The men lifted the doors open to reveal three accommodating platforms. The cages were carefully maneuvered onto them, and then one of each of the men inputted a series of codes into a panel resting on the ground beside each adjacent door hinge.

Three large, metallic clangs rang out into the night as the three cages suddenly lurched downward, making their way down the platforms.

"Where are you taking them?" JD asked breathlessly.

"Into vacant rooms," Geoffrey said. "We use them for scientific research. A cure is crucial."

Doctor Cox turned to the older man. "What the hell did you mean when you said that we were dispensable?"

He looked at him gravely. "You may think this personal seeing as I have been trying to find a cure for my daughter." He nodded thoughtfully. "It is quasi-personal, though. But we _are_ dispensable. I am not running this organization alone. If we are to perish, boys, others will replace us. The human race did not persist for this long only to die in the clutches of some messy virus. We have to find a cure."

"I understand the need for a cure, but Doctor Dorian and I are only two. You certainly can't expect much out of us."

Geoffrey offered a grim smile. "You are not alone. You will meet our scientists tomorrow. And as you saw, we have outside sources as well."

Doctor Cox narrowed his eyes at him. "Is this a military-funded organization?"

He nodded. "It is."


	18. Something's Missing

It had been over forty-eight hours since they'd seen either JD or Doctor Cox.

Carla and Turk despondently sat on their hotel room floor with a giggling Izzy between them. The young child glanced at both of her parents, her multi-pastel colored plush clown caught between her top and bottom anterior teeth. The cloth was wet with her spittle, but neither of her parents thought to take it away from her.

Carla and Turk were painstakingly looking through Doctor Cox's and JD's available legal papers respectively. The Latina nurse had found the older doctor's birth certificate and his and Jordan's divorce papers. Both Turks hadn't been able to find either doctor's driver's licenses and came to the conclusion that their wallets had been left in JD's sedan the day of the ration distribution. A phone call to the towing company had notified Turk that he would not be able to retrieve those items without the supervision or consent of their rightful owners, or until anyone was given consent by the police.

And that was where they were going today to file two missing persons reports.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Carla said thickly, sniffling as tears sprang to her eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

"I know, baby," Turk said, sounding hollow. He heaved a sigh, his shoulders tense with what they were about to do now. They had been holding it off until they'd found the necessary papers, but it had to be done. He got up and swiped his cell phone from the bedside table. "I'm gonna call Dan now."

"Okay," Carla sniffled. "I… I'll call Jordan," she said with a wince. She reached for Izzy and gave her a hug, nuzzling her daughter's head as she reached for the hotel room phone. She dialed the extension number to dial out, and then dialed her friend's cell phone number. She held her breath as it began to ring.

It hadn't even rung twice before Jordan picked up.

"_Carla," _the other woman said, her voice sounding strained.

"Jordan…" she replied, her voice breaking as tears began streaming down her cheeks.

There was a pause on the other line. _"It's Perry, isn't it?"_

"He's missing!" she sobbed, clapping a hand over her mouth. Izzy looked up at her in wonder, her tiny hands reaching to touch her mother's face.

"_Tell me everything,"_ Jordan said gravely.

Carla revisited the day of the ration distribution with the other woman listening silently on the other line. "It's been a little over forty-eight hours," she said. "The police said to file them in as missing if two days pass without incidence."

"_What do you need?"_ Jordan asked, curtly.

"I have his birth certificate and your divorce papers, but I could use his driver's license number if you have it," Carla said, her tones quiet.

"_In a minute,"_ Jordan said in clipped tones.

Carla heard the phone being put down.

Away from the phone but very much still audible, Jordan let out a frustrated shriek.

Carla waited in terse silence as Jordan returned to the phone. She shivered as the other woman greeted her as emotionless as ever.

"_I have the number,"_ Jordan said, sounding aloof.

After jotting it down, Carla murmured softly, "I'll keep you updated, okay?"

"_Thanks, Carla,"_ she said, her voice giving way to a slight waver.

"Bye." She bit her lip as the other woman hung up without another word.

When Turk opened the door and extricated Izzy from her lap, wrapping his arms around his wife, she murmured, "It must be so hard for her."

Turk gave her an encouraging squeeze.

"She doesn't know anything that's going on here, and her son's missing and I know she and Perry have had a pretty rocky and unconventional relationship, but emotions went into that." Carla pursed her lips, suddenly feeling burdened by what more she knew. She sank into her husband's side, resting her head at the crook of his neck.

After a quiet moment, Carla raised her head and looked at him. Turk bent forward and kissed her, their lips lingering. Tears escaped from beneath Carla's long lashes.

Turk was the first to pull away, but he rested his forehead against hers. "Let's get this over with, okay?" he said, his voice tremulous.

Carla nodded.

They separated and searched for their shoes. Carla fetched her purse from the living room while Turk gathered all the necessary paperwork from the floor, holding his daughter to his chest with one arm.

Izzy giggled as he dipped low to pick up the papers, naïve to the events unfolding around her.

The ride to the police station was silent aside from Izzy, babbling away to herself in the backseat. They parked somewhere on the street and then took their baby from her chair, putting a face mask on her despite her fussing before putting on their own. They walked the two blocks it took to get to the police station and were instantly bombarded by pandemonium.

The place was crowded, the line to the reception desk almost through the door. Carla took a deep breath as she took her place on line, her eyes tearing as she observed all the noise and frustration. People were complaining about dwindling rations, missing family members and friends, problems with electric and water companies not answering their calls. It was almost an hour before the Turks reached the front desk, but they had to be patient, at least for their friends.

"We're here to declare two missing people," Carla said, lowering her face mask. She glanced at her husband, who handed over a portfolio of JD and Doctor Cox's various legal papers and pictures that could be used on flyers and spaces in the newspaper. "It's been forty-eight hours since we've seen them," she said, her voice wavering.

"I'm going to need you to fill out these documents. You can go into the other room and wait for the next available officer, who will sign it for you and discuss your possible options," the nasally young man said.

The Turks were directed into another room with four sheets of paper and a clipboard. They sat down in hard plastic seats and started on them, waiting.

* * *

Doctor Cox and JD were roused from their sleep around seven in the morning, or so said the custodian who came in to fix up their room. Geoffrey came in a few minutes later, dressed in a slate-colored suit and over it, a yellow disposable robe.

"You're supposed to put that on in a sterile place, you know," the older doctor said with an eye roll.

"I will replace it," Geoffrey said simply, leading them down the hall.

They went two flights down, which is something they'd never done before.

"Where are we going?" JD asked, his voice still hoarse from disuse.

"To visit my daughter. She is in a medically induced coma that she has been in from the start of her diagnosis. We have no idea how the virus will react once we take her out of it."

"The virus has been dormant for that long?" Doctor Cox asked, sounding intrigued.

Geoffrey nodded. "It surprised us, too."

They were led inside a room that was not unlike a walk-in closet, only this walk-in closet had biohazard suits hanging on metal hangers instead of regular apparel. Each man helped the other into a suit before Geoffrey led them into a sterile room that was sandwiched between the dressing room and Amy's supposed quarters. Geoffrey attached long tubes to the backs of their suits, which fed breathable air into them, then he flipped a switch that trapped all the air into that one room before opening a heavy metal door and leading them into Amy's quarters.

A pale woman laid in the middle of a hospital bed, hooked up to various machines and IVs. A thin blanket was laid over her very swollen stomach.

"She's pregnant?" Doctor Cox asked, his eyes widened in surprise.

"A little over six months now," their captor replied.

"How . . . ?" JD murmured. "How has the baby been able to survive in such a tainted environment?"

"It's . . . amazing," Geoffrey said softly. "The virus really is dormant under a medically induced coma. We've been providing nutrients for Amy and the baby, and various supplements catered to pregnant women. We've been monitoring the child via ultrasound and amniocentesis. Amazingly enough, the virus has not yet reached the child, but it seems _impossible_ . . . "

"She was pregnant when she got infected?" JD asked quietly.

"Very much. The outbreak wasn't even that long ago, and yet the virus does not show up in the amniotic sack or in the child itself."

"Which should be impossible because time _had _to have passed from the time she was infected to the time she was actually diagnosed, treated, and put under a coma," Doctor Cox remarked.

"Exactly," Geoffrey said with a tense nod.

"We haven't exactly been totally informed about this disease, Geoffrey. Do you by any chance know if the virus is detectable when it's dormant?" JD asked. "Or does it suddenly just stop in its tracks, as if it was frozen?"

"It is not detectable at all. That is why I fear for the child. It may be developing at a very healthy rate, but something about that frightens me. It is in as much -- probably even more so -- of a threat of never awakening from this coma. Especially since it is so young, so small, and still developing. I don't know if this child could be a potential answer for a cure or a predator lying in wait. And the mother . . . She shows no brain activity, which is understandable because of the coma. But who knows what will happen to them both once they awaken?"

"So what will we do?" JD asked desperately.

"We will wait until the child's gestation is complete," Geoffrey said.

Doctor Cox's eyes widened. "This woman is at _six months_! You will not keep us here for the remainder of her pregnancy!"

The elder man's eyes hardened. "And where will you go, Doctor Cox?"


End file.
